Gone, No Goodbyes: A New Harry Potter Fanfic
by Don E. Delivery
Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of his life. Ron and Hermione married and are pregnant with their first child. Ginny left... mostly because he kicked her out. And as far as the rest of his friends go... who bloody cares? Harry never had that many friends anyway. After years of making England a happier place he wants out. This time, he says, he's leaving without saying goodbye.
1. Chapter One: Staging the Exit

**Gone, No Goodbyes: A New Harry Potter Fanfic**

**Don E. Delivery**

**Summary:**

_Harry Potter has had enough of his life. Ron and Hermione married and are pregnant with their first child. Ginny left, mostly because he kicked her out. And as far as the rest of his friends go... who bloody cares? Harry never had that many friends anyway. And after years of making England a happier place he wants out. This time, he says, he's leaving without saying goodbye. _

**Genre:**

_Humor - Adventure - Romance_

**Pairing:**

_Harry Potter / Other Character(s)_

* * *

_I've been thinking a lot about my life lately._

_Not by necessity, as much as by my own choice, but a long look back on my childhood and the trials I've overcome has my belief in a calm, docile future a bit... jaded? Things are not well, as you already know. I've always been a restless sleeper and, now that I've laid off the firewhiskey and my tremendously fit ex-girlfriend, nothing tends to wear me out enough to make my mind shut down. I'm sure you could relate; most of my friends would be disappointed to see me ordering take out again, sitting silently on the squishy sofa in my flat, watching the neighbors across the hall fight for the umpteenth time this week. But, between me and you, I'm completely satisfied with my life._

_Kind of. I mean, for the most part. No matter how calm things have become, I'm sure there will always be a lot of unnecessary strife I would rather do without. I suppose saving the Wizarding World created its own problems, and I was naive to think I could avoid it all, but I had honestly imagined myself relaxing on a beach somewhere for a few years, a glass of lemonade in hand and a bronze-skinned, totally unselfish girl massaging my shoulders as another beautiful day fades away. _

_Maybe it's destiny that has adhered me to this island, tucked away in the northern Atlantic, cool and dreary and dim and filled with wizards that love or loathe me. Maybe my fate is to watch the world turn rather than turn the world into something to watch. Maybe my life is as insignificant as yours, no offense._

_Maybe I think too much._

_When she isn't screaming at her new husband, Hermione tells me I've become more pensive since Hogwarts; Ron is similarly delighted to inform me I've turned into an even broodier git. They've got a child on the way, which is a beautiful, positive thing, so most of the time their arguments and disdainful attitude towards my way of life just leave me amused; after all, Ron would probably kill someone to eat dinner on the couch silently. Ginny, on the other hand, refuses to speak to me at all; not that I'm surprised. Don't care either, just because she's such a nag to begin with. _

_Yes, I broke up with you to go save the world. No, it doesn't mean that I've changed my mind now that I saved it._

_I thought it sounded officious and even a bit glorious when I told her that this world, free from the tyranny of Voldemort, still needed a hero and I was going to be it. Hours of dragon shit-thick conversation, often at the top of our very loud voices, led me to a simple realization: No matter what I do for the rest of my life, I don't want to hear another fucking word from that woman._

_The door slammed, the high-pitched shrieks ended, and I was left with beautiful silence._

_Finally. _

_I could not describe to you with mere words the joy I carried with me the rest of that day, and everyday since, comforted by the knowledge that although most of the Weasleys would hate me, the only two Weasleys that mattered were my best friends (and not Ginny's) anyway. Bill is probably too far up Fleur's ass to notice (not that I blame him) and Charlie probably can't even remember Ginny's name to start with. Of course, Molly made a show of our break up; she even thinks that I'm turning dark, bless her. Fred doesn't blame me, which is a little shocking, but he just fired his sister a few months back for stealing from the register. The family isn't in dire straits these days, but they still take their finances just as seriously._

_My finances, however, are in a constant state of growth, having become so abundant that interest payments alone net me more than double an Auror's salary monthly - not that I'll tell Neville, who became an Auror after Hogwarts despite one of the worst Potions' scores in recent memory. In fact, I pay all of my bills, eat as lavishly as I please, and go just about anywhere a Portkey or Apparation can take me, and I still have a couple hundred quid leftover every month. It didn't take me long to figure out that two more years of schooling, day after day of dealing with Ministry bureacrats and risking my life over and over was not my destiny - it was just stupid. Following in the footsteps of my father, Sirius, Mad Eye Moody and even Tonks, no matter how brave and noble they were, will probably lead me to an early grave, something I'm absolutely desperate to avoid._

_Am I afraid of death? Nah, I've already died once, if not more than once. It's just that I'm in no hurry to actually stay in the afterlife. I would like to live a little before I die, y'know?_

_I'm not afraid of fighting either; in fact, if being an Auror didn't tether me to Shacklebolt's nether-regions I wouldn't mind laying the smack down on a few criminals from time to time. I was easily one of the most talented wizards of my age before destroying the horcruxes and offing Voldemort, and with so much free time on my hands over the last few years, I've slowly reinforced my innate talent with knowledge. _

_Still, being alone in my apartment for long stretches was a double-edged sword; for each minute I spent working on self-made lesson plans, I spent five thinking how bored I was with... more or less everything. Once Ginny was gone, my thoughts turned to my future, and I found out something about myself._

_I don't like it here._

_See... I've thought it through logically. Shit, I planned every bit of it as meticulously as sweet, twelve-year old Hermione would have. I see no point in camping out in the UK waiting for some ex-Death Eater or rogue mercenary diguised as a meter maid to pop up on my doorstep and test how good my moniker still is. Being the Boy Who Lived does not imply that I'm infallible, that I won't die if someone chops off my head, or stabs me in the heart, or coughs on me wrong. So tonight, on the evening of my twenty-first birthday, I'm leaving - perhaps permanently. And the only thing better than the thought of starting my life anew in warmer, happier places, all by myself is..._

_You're the only person I'm telling._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James..._

* * *

**Chapter One: Staging the Exit**

Okay. I lied.

I chose Saturday to surprise my old friends with a visit; around eight in the evening I stood on the doorstep of the Weasley household in Manchester, and as usual, my two best friends were delighted to receive me. We spent nearly a half an hour catching up before Hermione left the sitting room, returning scant minutes later with a full meal for all of us.

We had been eating for five or six minutes before Ron belched loudly, disrupting all conversation. He thanked his wife for the meal, which he had finished and we were just starting on, and then proceeded to clear his throat.

He spoke, and then there was absolute silence.

Judging by his wife's reaction, Ron's words would precede his imminent death at Hermione's hands... which, in my honest opinion, would only be rushing the inevitable; she was bound to kill him for something sooner or later.

I slammed my fork down, scowling. Eyeing my best friend with disbelief, I said, "Ron, you have to be joking." When he averted his eyes and his ears began reddening I was struck by the sudden urge to run my hands through my hair; instead, I awkwardly rubbed them together and hid them under my chair, still unaccustomed to dealing with my new clean-shaven look. I turned to the pants in the family. "Hermione, will you talk some sense into him?"

"I've tried! He won't listen to me no matter what I say or do!"

"Did you try..." I gestured furtively with my hands, insinuating that marital relations might be the answer. Apparently this revolutionary idea had already been considered and then dismissed by the expecting Granger-turned-Weasley.

"Yes!" She said, leaping to her feet, before steadying herself for a moment. Her belly had grown rather massive in the last few weeks, and I couldn't imagine having to heft that luggage around all day. After a short pause, she continued, "But since I'm already pregnant, he doesn't care if he has sex with me at all!"

Ron looked a little green at her statement. "I'm sorry, but I keep thinking about hitting little Hugo when I'm... y'know. It just ain't right, Hermione."

She was starting to growl, so I laughed and tried to change the subject. "Look, your private life should remain private, for all of our sakes. Merlin knows you're squicky enough when I just assume you're doing it. But going back to what you said before - have you really thought this through?"

"Joining the Auror corps is a brillaint idea, Harry! In fact," Ron said, pointing at me. "You should join with me so we can do all our courses together!"

This was a terrible idea, and it didn't take me long to tell him so. Of course, Hermione jumped at the opportunity to further dissuade Ron.

"Ron, we've already talked about this," she said, in a tone that showed just how beleaguered the argument had made her. "It is extremely dangerous, you will be training as much as sixteen hours some days, and after the first two years you'll be expected to do tons of paperwork (which you hate) and you'll cover an entire segment of London on your own..."

"Yeah," Ron said in a voice not-unlike Luna's when she talked about nargles. "I can't wait to arrest somebody!" He punctuated this statement with a punch to his palm. He pulled out his wand and aimed it like one would a Muggle handgun. "Malfoy! In the name of the Ministry of Magic, you're UNDER ARREST-"

I shook my head and interrupted him. "Ron, after all of the shit the Ministry has put us through in the last decade, you're going to sign up as a recruit, and be subjected to the same type of brain-washing as Crouch, Scrimgeour, Dawlish..."

These names had an effect on Ron; however, it was not the reaction I was hoping for. He laughed. "Moody, Shacklebolt..." His face twisted then, and he gave me a more serious look. "Frank and Alice Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, James Potter..."

I understood his point then - that my father was a hero to the United Kingdom, and he had been an Auror. "Yes," I relented, "but despite the heroic deeds of these brave men and women, all but one of the people you name are dead and Shacklebolt has been morphed from a hitwizard to a damn dictator!"

Ron and Hermione both winced, well-aware how strongly I hated Shacklebolt these days. Despite the fact the war was over, he had sent many men and women to prison for their suspected Death Eater ties, including my own personal friends. Michael Corner's mother and father were both suspected Death Eaters who fled the country, leaving him to fend for himself, and as a result, he was still incarcerated after six months in Azkaban. Adding insult to injury, Anthony Goldstein had just been released, having been put in jail for disrupting a meeting of the Wizengamot concerning his best friend. He probably didn't help his cause calling the Chief Warlock a dirty name during the proceedings.

John Smalling was a bit of an asshole though. Anthony had really hit home with that one.

"He's not a dictator, Harry," said Hermione, who had been quiet for far longer than normal. I noticed she was smearing some type of lotion on her exposed belly, so I quickly averted my eyes, not intending on seeing anything of Hermione's exposed. "He's put a lot of evil people behind bars, and even though a few didn't deserve to be there, I wouldn't say he was doing a bad job."

"Hermione, if I had the power _Sinister_ Shacklebolt had I would have removed all of the prisoners and used an Auror detail to make sure the Dementors never left the island. You know first hand how awful Sirius looked after his time in Azkaban, and even Hagrid was petrified of the place. I can only imagine how Michael is holding up."

She bit her lip. "It must be horrible," she agreed. "I know he's been allowed to have a lot of visitors though, and I know they eat a lot better."

"Tough to eat when you vomit every fifteen minutes from reliving your worst memories." I was scowling, I could feel it.

Ron spoke up for the first time in a while. "They questioned him and he said he didn't know anything." He chuckled humorlessly. "He knew they were up to something, if he would have given them _something_ he wouldn't have been charged. But he insisted he knew _nothing_, nada, zip, zilch! The Ministry had _just_ passed a law right after the war that said uncooperative prisoners would have to spend six months in Azkaban, so guess what? Now it's air-tight."

"Right. And who passed the law? Was it - oh, I don't know - Shacklebolt?"

"But do you remember _why_ they passed the law?"

I did, so I nodded reluctantly. "Rookwood's son... what was his name?"

"Austin," Hermione whispered. "He was in his fifth year when we graduated-"

"Yeah," Ron chuckled darkly. "A fifth year who attacked one of his guards and tried to slip out of a Ministry holding cell the night before his trial. Real bright, that Rookwood boy." He shook his head. "Anyway, none of us could have seen Michael coming-"

None of us had any idea Michael's parents were Death Eaters until he was already being held captive. It was well known he didn't keep in touch with them, but no one knew anything else about them. When he denied the Ministry's accusations that he had been in touch with his parents, Shacklebolt decided he was not cooperating.

"And there was nothing we could do-"

Within a month his parents had been caught, and under Veritaserum, they confessed to robberies and murders in the Muggle world. Not once were they asked about their son.

"And at least he gets out in a month." Ron finished, relaxing a little bit in his recliner. His father had bought it for him, and both enjoyed quickly pulling the lever, almost tossing themselves out of the chair in the process.

Even though Michael would be getting released soon, I personally thought that was little compensation for being held captive for having bad parents.

We had already discussed his situation multiple times so I moved on to more pressing issues. Namely, Ron's dunderheaded decision to be an Auror.

"You're still a fool for getting wrapped up in that type of bollocks, Ron. You better keep your Foe Glass on you at all times because I guarantee there are snakes in the Ministry that would love nothing more than to sink their teeth into you..."

"It will be fine, Harry! You worry more than Hermione!"

Hermione huffed. "We are both worried because you can't see how difficult this is going to be on you, me, and our child. You'll never be home to see Rose-"

Ron rolled his eyes and interrupted saying, "Hugo!" He was certain that they would be having a boy first, just like his own parents.

"-or Hugo," she continued, giving him an annoyed look. "But Ron, with you gone all the time, am I just supposed to sit home and raise the children by myself?"

"You won't be by yourself!" Ron rushed to his wife's side, taking her by the same hand that carried her beautiful diamond ring. She looked at him, blushing, and one corner of her lips quirked upward in a smile. I rolled my eyes, having seen the same thing a billion times from the pair. Ron stepped back a moment later, smiling. "You know my mom will always be here to help you, Hermione!"

I literally had to place my right hand on the table in order to keep from smacking myself in the forehead; even Ron, who was notoriously naive, looked like he regretted his statement. Hermione was notorious herself, mostly for being bossy, and adding another even bossier woman into the equation would cause an explosion I didn't think I wanted to be around to see. Luckily I was leaving in a few hours anyway.

Hoping to forego the usual 'I'm the child's mom, not your mom!' argument, I spoke up, making a belated attempt at changing the subject. It didn't work.

"Your mom is not in control of our lives, Ronald Weasley. I am having this child, and you will be with me or I will join my parents in bloody Austrailia - and I am not joking about this! I have a say in this marriage, and you are violating your vows if you get this job...'

"What do you mean 'violating my vows'? You're being too dramatic, Hermione!" The fact that he swept his long red hair over his shoulder as he said this was not ironic in the slightest.

"You told me when we wed that you would be there in sickness and health, right?"

"Right..."

"And 'til death do us part, right?" Her voice was rising, which did not bode well for either of us.

"Right! But-"

"And you swore on your magic you would always take what I have to say into account before you make a major decision. You are bound, against the threat of losing your magic, to at least hear me out!"

"I have heard you out, Hermione, and no matter what you say this is what I want to do with my life!"

I listened to them go back and forth, idly stirring my coffee and looking around the room. Their home was decorated in burgundy and brown, not too dissimilar to the common room I had shared with them for six years. None of us had returned for our seventh year at Hogwarts (though Ron and Hermione both finished their NEWTS) but I knew we would always carry an affinity for all-things-Gryffindor, especially the house colors.

"Look guys, I didn't come here so we could argue all night. I have something important to say."

I was summarily ignored, as they continued rudely sniping at eachother. Growing annoyed, I pulled my wand from the holster on my forearm and slapped it against the table, which leapt a few inches off the ground, sending plates, silverware and glasses flying, though none of them fell to the floor. My two arguing friends sat back down silently, having been on their feet and screaming at eachother.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yes, Harry? You have something to say?"

Ron smiled knowingly. "Is this about Ginny?"

I shook my head so fast that Hermione giggled slightly. "No, no, no... Merlin no! I definitely do not want to talk about your sister, now or ever." I took a deep breath, preparing to drop a bomb on them, though only I knew how big a bomb. "I am also starting a new job."

Hermione once again leapt to her feet, this time approaching me and putting an arm around my shoulders, smiling happily. "It's about time you joined the working class!" Ron also added his congratulations, though he was obviously a bit dismayed I wouldn't be joining him in Auror training, while Hermione continued to look at me with undisguised pride in her eyes.

It was a few more moments before Hermione thought to ask, "What kind of job is it, Harry?"

Right.

"This may come as a surprise to you, but I am actually a really accomplished Occlumens and pretty much the world's only remaining specialist on horcruxes. Well," I said, knowing my words sounded slightly unbelievable. "There is Slughorn, and he's actually my connection to this job, but he wants no part of horcruxes and so he referred me as the most likely candidate. Pretty much everyone has heard the story of the Battle of Hogwarts, so it's common knowledge Dumbledore and I took care of the horcruxes. Seems like a perfect fit, honestly."

Hermione sighed, idly playing with her hair. I could tell she wasn't happy I would be spending my time chasing horcruxes, but she was trying to weigh my restless, altogether-boring as shit lifestyle against the person she remembered from school - noble, driven to the point of recklessness, always absorbed in my work, always pushing the brink of greatness...

No matter how much I had been forced into my role as Chosen One, no matter how I loathed my lot in life, I had grown with the power and prestige of the position, and when the sudden glory of Voldemort's death had slowly faded into... insignificance, it was almost too much to bear. It had been the worst part of my life, but it was my life and by Merlin, some part of my sick, sad, twisted little mind craved that attention. My misfortune was something I could rely on. Being a brilliant, powerful, handsome, rich philanthropist did not suit me, not one bit.

Hermione knew that, perhaps more than anyone else, but she always knew everything, didn't she? "I just wish it wasn't so dangerous, Harry... I mean, do you even know what kind of wizard you're going up against?"

"Actually, from what they told me, it's many different wizards. There are caves running under the Congo that contain an entire clan of indigenous peoples' dead, and from what I've heard..."

For a while I told them of my plan to leave the United Kingdom for six months to live in Africa, raiding tombs, getting paid, and more to the point, ridding the world of horcruxes. I did find it remarkably appealing, but not for the reasons I gave my friends; after all, I wasn't just going to dig up dead wizards in the Congo. I planned on seeing a Nundu in real life in the Sudan, from afar no doubt, and I would be spending the first part of my journey in Greece...

Basically, I had thrown out my long list of things I'd like to do and instead decided on two simple, unassailable rules for my journey: If it looks like fun... do it now. If you can't do it now... do it later.

"But Harry," said Hermione, pulling me from my thoughts. "I can distinctly remember you saying how glad you were that you would never have to see another horcrux when you defeated Voldemort. Where did this sudden change of heart come from? You've been dismissive of all other attempts to keep you busy, even higher paying, safer jobs that allow you to stay right here in England. So..." she trailed off, looking at me expectantly.

"Well, Hermione," I began, buying myself time by taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee. I made a face at the bitter taste. "None of those jobs offered me an opportunity to learn, experiencing new, interesting things, while also seeing a part of the world I'll never be able to see otherwise. I've heard that Central and Northern Africa is beautiful, if dangerous." I followed this statement with another sip of the coffee.

"Why do you keep making that face?"

"The coffee."

"It's not coffee. It's a _Mocha Latte_," Ron informed him, adding a distinctly Hermione-ish emphasis on the name of the drink.

"Whatever. It sucks," I declared petulantly, pushing my mug aside.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sure Africa is going to be a lot of fun, really, it's just that I'm worried. So many people hate you, Harry." She paused. "Not that it's your fault," she rushed to assure me. "It's just that you're a bright, famous face that represents everything good and wholesome about the world-"

As she talked I took my wand from its holster and tapped my face slightly, twice on each side. Without saying a word my face became a perfect replica of another, and when she gradually noticed the change she let out a squeal of fright. "What the hell, Harry!"

Ron slammed a hand against the table and roared with laughter. "Nice one, mate!"

"Obviously I'm capable of keeping my identity secret. I learned a lot from Slughorn about it and I've practiced like mad. It's going to be very easy for me to blend in."

Hermione nodded, still looking a little awed by Harry's body being attached to Ron's face. "Your freckles are a little different on the left side," she finally said.

"Well," I said, scratching the back of my head, "I'm not perfect at it yet, but I think I'll be fine. It's much more likely I get hurt by a horcrux than mobbed for being Harry Potter anyway. I'm sure we'll be secluded as well, so I doubt we'll be Apparating in and out, drawing a lot of attention. Room and board is included, meals taken care of, and at the end of the mission we each get 50,000 galleons - not like I need it, but thats no small salary."

"Auror only pays 15,000 a year, Harry! That's a fuckton of money!"

Ron was still a little quick to anger over his own monetary situation, though he had worked hard for what little he had. I played it off.

"Yeah, Ron, but it's not really about the money. It's about seeing the world and, and, expanding my horizons... I could be myself for a change." I kept a straight face and he relented, nodding his head as if he knew I'd say something like that all along. Thinking back to my school days, I probably would have said something that cliche, and actually meant it. The fact that everything I was telling them was a borderline lie and I was a tremendously lousy person for it was not lost on me.

"Anyway, I'm leaving soon so I just wanted to let you know-"

Ron and Hermione shared a look. Then Ron said, "How soon?"

I had the good grace to duck my head. "Tonight."

"WHAT!" came the expected reaction from the two of them. Honestly, if I were in their shoes this would have come as a complete shock to me, so I can't blame them.

"Harry Potter! How long have you known you were going away?"

"Well, I knew about the offer for about a week, but I took my time researching it and talking to the people involved before I told anyone. It would be rather pointless to say I'm going to Africa for a job and then not even get the job, y'know?" This sounded weak at best, but Ron looked convinced, even if Hermione didn't.

"I just-" she started, shaking her head half-way through. "It's just... Harry, you are leaving us! We're your best friends!" She began to tear up, and I wasn't sure if it was a side effect of carrying a child inside of her or a result of her truly being upset about me leaving, though I had a feeling it was more of the latter. "Who is going to help us raise our children... who is going to have children so that they can be friends with our children and grow up and have little children..."

Her hysterical questions trailed off into sobs, and Ron gave me a look that plainly said, "I'm sorry, mate, but you're making my wife cry, so kindly fuck off."

My return look of, "Hey. Your problem, not mine," was met with an unkind gesture involving Ron's middle digit.

After some time, and a lot of cajoling from Ron, Hermione finally stopped crying long enough to speak with me again. "Harry, like I said before, I'm really proud of you. You're doing something with your life besides wasting your parents' fortune and bedding every woman you set your eyes on. As long as you are happy," she said, stooping over to pick up one of Ron's shirts and having trouble reaching it. When Ron reached over carefully and picked it up for her with smile, her eyes started to water suspiciously.

"All I want you to know is that we love you, we will always love you, and whenever you come back we better be the first people you see... and - and - I'm just so proud of you, Harry..."

She wrapped her arms around my chest and squeezed briefly before her tears could get the best of her. She walked away swiftly, and I could tell she was really upset. She went into the bedroom and shut the door, and I heard her soft sobs from the other side.

"She'll be fine," Ron said, though he was probably just trying to convince himself. "You're her best friend, y'know, and she's not used to you being somewhere else. She'll come around - you'll see!"

He patted me on the back, and I smiled at him, though I'm sure it didn't reach my eyes. "Yeah," I muttered, trying to forget Hermione's face, tear-stricken and hurt, but still caring enough to tell me she loves me before I leave. In my mind, I kept hearing her miserable voice saying, 'I'm just so proud of you, Harry...'

So, why did I suddenly feel sick?

* * *

_-End of Chapter One-_

_-Edited 11/9/2012._


	2. Chapter Two: Portkey to the Parthenon

**Chapter Two: Portkey to the Parthenon**

I looked at my new, significantly warmer surroundings and blinked. It was dusty and hot, and the first beads of sweat lined my arms as I stood, trying to get my eyes to adjust to my new location. I squinted and removed my glasses, wiping them on the inside of my shirt. A cursory glance showed that I had ended up just where I intended, all was well, and I could remove my other hand from my forearm, where my wand was hidden. I breathed a sigh of relief, having had too much trouble with Portkeying in my life to just assume I'd be fine.

Once I felt like I could see well enough, I gasped at the wonderous sight in front of me. It was literally looking back in time thousands of years as I gazed at the inside of one of world's oldest temples.

I'm certainly no history buff, having been forced to suck at all of my classes as a kid thanks to hearty doses of Vernon and Dudley's respective fists, so I honestly couldn't tell you much about the Parthenon or the Acropolis it sat on. I'll be the first person to tell you that I'm not a walking encyclopedia; unlike Hermione, who could probably give a guided tour of the place without ever stepping foot on the premises, I wasn't the type to study world history for shits and giggles. Of course, I knew it had been the home of many kings, and then a temple for the goddess Athena, and that it was one of the most significant magical buildings in Europe, but to say my knowledge was limited would be an understatement.

The Portkey I had received by owl a few days previous had informed me I would be landing in the East Pediment, next to the statue depicting the birth of Athena. I could see it vividily now; Athena, who was fully grown, stood before Zeus and Hera for the first time. Their faces and limbs had eroded with time, and most of the surface area was chipped and abraded, yet it looked damned good despite sitting 2,500 years in the same place.

At least, I _thought_ it was 2,500 years. I suppose it could have been moved Saturday and I wouldn't know the difference.

Despite my incomprehension of Greek mythology and culture, I could still enjoy the ancient architecture as easily as the other tourists. Men, women and children were pushing softly past me in all directions, and there were droves of people congregating near the largest sculptures, but I could move freely through the masses and I spent a quarter of an hour touching on each component of the building briefly. There were decorated columns lining the room I was in, each depicting scenes that told stories of old Greece; Gods fought with Giants, sacrificial sheep and cows were slaughtered by men on chariots, and scenes from the Trojan War were carved on walls and in the columns. My smile was pretty much immobile, as I was momentarily absorbed in my first opportunity to see _anything_ outside of Britain firsthand, and it would take a small scale war to wreck my mood.

After a few minutes of savoring the scenery, I heard English voices. I joined a group of tourists, following at a distance, but listening closely to the middle-aged man explaining our surroundings. Pushing through bronze doors revealed the inner sanctum of the temple and I spotted another monument to Athena that had a large rectangular reflecting pool in front of it. Strangely enough, the rippling effect of the water reminded me of the Veil hanging in the Department of Mysteries. Just as in the Veil Room, I heard mysterious voices that defied explanation, and the haunting memories of Sirius' death touched my mind with ghostly fingers...

During the guide's explanation, a rustic, ancient magic pressed against me from all sides, but instead of the crushing weight I had heard about from Slughorn, I thought that it felt... _gentle_. I had briefly discussed my trip to Athens with my old professor, and he told me that having the wrong intentions could cause complications, as with most magic, and things could rapidly get out of hand if I wasn't very careful. Horace warned me to think happy thoughts when I first Portkeyed to the Parthenon, as thousands of years of updating the magic had made it temperamental on the best of occasions and downright deadly if tested.

Apparently, years of war with other nations of wizards popping in and out of Athens, swiftly killing its leaders before being detected and leaving without much more than a 'crack' of displaced air, had made the leadership a little wary of foreigners. A comprehensive system had been adopted across Greece to make it so that any Apparition or Portkey into the country would automatically arrive at the Parthenon in Athens. It was really quite brilliant actually; if you intended to Apparate in and assassinate a Spartan in Sparta, you were found dead on the Parthenon floor. Frightening, sure, but efficient nonetheless.

The magic released me and I breathed a little easier. I moved forward, taking my first steps out of the Parthenon and onto the Archaic Acropolis proper. I spent a long time just admiring the city stretching all around me. A large part of me was still numb to the knowledge I was now in another country, surveying a sprawling city built with magic that didn't require wands or incantations. As I walked, I idly wondered what it would be like to live in those times, when wizards were often described with the same reverence as the Gods.

I could only imagine the fervor that would follow me if Muggles thought I could cure their dying relatives or speak to a higher power. It actually made being _Harry Potter_ seem tame by comparison.

The pamphlets I owl-ordered a week previous had taught me the basic layout of the city, but my assumption that it would be easy to spot the wizards and witches was... _skewed_. Everyone seemed to dress as a Muggle tourist would, but I could sense the magic being used all around me. Scanning one of the pamphlets, I decided to head for the nearest restaurant, hoping it would be similar to the Leaky Cauldron and allow me access to the whatever they called the wizarding market here. Maybe I could speak to someone in English there and get directions to my hotel. Besides, I hadn't eaten since Hermione's hastily prepared dinner the night before.

Very quickly I realized I was becoming hopelessly lost. Guided tours zigzagged through the crowd, vendors called out to tourists, and workers spoke to eachother in Greek, already at work on renovations to the European landmark. One thing I had not thought to prepare myself for was the remarkably confusing language written on the signs. Sure, there were English words littered about the place here and there, but they were few and far between, and if the pamphlet was anything to go by, there were only a few predominantly English-speaking places in the immediate area.

I wandered for a while, annoyed that I had been unable to find a suitable restaurant or locate my hotel room from the Parthenon. It was my first time seeing a major city outside of London and Manchester, so I was taken aback by the sheer number of pedestrians walking the streets and roads.

I checked my watch as a waited at a crosswalk. I had a meeting in a little less than an hour with my new boss, and I felt the first trickles of anxiety at the thought that I might not be there in time. I took a step forward and heard the distinct blare of a lorry's horn, followed moments later by the driver's irritated voice.

"_Malaka_!" Whatever the _fuck_ that meant, stupid wanker.

Thirty minutes or so passed before I set my eyes on The Athenian Callirhoe, the place I would be staying in for the next three days. My brochure said it was five minutes walking distance from the Acropolis, yet it had taken me more than an hour to circle back around to the luxurious hotel.

Checking in wasn't much of a hassle. I was a high-paying customer, which meant that I could simply smile, utter a few words in English (which were met with short, brisk nods) and slide the requisite amount of Euros over the table. Shining the receipt I had been sent a few days previous caused the buxom lady behind the desk to lean forward with a smile of her own.

I had no idea what she said, but I nodded nonetheless. She took that as confirmation to hand me a card key with a tiny wand on the corner. Apparently, this was to distinguish between Muggle and Magical customers. She rattled off a few more lines in Greek, to which I just shrugged uncomfortably. She seemed put out by my non-committal nature, but I also knew it wasn't the first time an Englishman had stayed here, so I figured everything would be properly taken care of.

It was at that moment a fiercely attractive young blonde joined me at the table, carrying what looked like a restaurant menu and various pamphlets for area attractions - thankfully, all written in English. The woman behind the counter motioned to her, and then to me, and they both smiled. I almost jumped back in shock when the blonde spoke.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" At my blank look, her smile grew a bit mischeivous. "Let me guess... you didn't expect me to speak English?"

After a moment's hesitation, mostly because she was breathtakingly beautiful, I nodded slowly. "You're right, of course. Are you English?"

She shook her head quickly, and it occured to me that although she spoke English, her accent and mannerisms were a bit different than I was accustomed to. "American," she said simply. "I'm actually a mage from New York. I applied for this job because I'm fluent in many languages - not just the obvious two."

Although I was captivated, I needed something to eat before I fainted. It was purely coincidence that I had to meet someone in the hotel restaurant to begin with. "Miss," I drawled, unsure of her name. "Could you show me to the restaurant before I go to my room? I'm absolutely famished."

"Oh, sure!" she replied. "Follow me!"

The cheery girl led me away, and I dutifully watched her bum as it swayed in front of me. I made a mental note to see America before I went back to England. "So what is New York like?" I questioned, genuinely interested on an intellectual level despite my obvious attraction to the girl.

"Oh, it's _really_, really nice!" she enthused, allowing me to catch up and walk more or less beside her. Our brisk walk became a stroll, and for a moment of stark madness I strongly considered looping arms with the girl. She did not elaborate, however, instead pushing a door open to reveal a luxurious dining room housing just about every form of nourishment I could think of.

"Wow," I said, stunned at the enormity of the meal I could now eat. My stomach warbled feebly and I caught its intent; the full chicken roasted and sitting ten feet from me would suffice until I could reach the filet mignon on its other side... "Thank you so much for your help, Miss..."

"You're welcome, sir," she said, refusing the opportunity to give me her name. "If there is anything you need during your stay, please do not hesitate to call the front desk."

Slightly annoyed, despite the beautiful blonde and the bountiful buffet laid before me, I frowned and tried to avoid snapping at the girl. "Who do I ask for if I want to get you up to my room?"

I wasn't completely sure that came out the way I intended it, but she smiled casually enough. That just made me more embarassed. "My name is Deni Bonet. Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter." She shook my hand.

"Harry. I'm just Harry now," I said, and she nodded. She obviously knew who I was and could see that I didn't want to make a big fuss over it. "It was my pleasure, Deni. Hopefully I will see you around..."

I was also hopeful that I wasn't making a fool of myself. My limited experience with women notwithstanding, I had come a long way since my Hogwarts' days and usually had no trouble talking to women. Ginny, though my first and only to this point, had calmy coerced any nervousness out of me years ago. At least, I had thought that until Deni popped up.

Giggling slightly, she smiled and turned to leave, flouncing away from me as quickly as she had arrived at the front desk earlier. "See you later, Harry."

"Wow," I said under my breath, watching the attractive girl exit the room. She turned back around at the entrance to the lobby and waved, and I couldn't help waving back, probably looking just as goofy as I imagined. Embarassed as I felt, I couldn't help thinking she was an absolute fox.

It was made abruptly clear to me that Deni Bonet was definitely one thing I would like to do before I left Athens.

Someone behind me chuckled, and I turned to find a rather large man sitting at a round table. His outlandishly-decorated flowered shirt bulged around his waist, just pushing the buttons aside enough for me to make out his rather hairy belly. A dark brown moustache hung over his lip, obscuring his smile just enough that it made him look old and wise rather than just old. He beckoned me over and, though I was tempted to resist, I gradually made my way towards him.

"Oh, grab a plate, son," he said, in a Scottish burr not unlike that of my former Transfiguration professor. "You look starved as is!"

Though I hated being called 'son' as an orphan, I obeyed the man. It only took me a few minutes to grab everything that looked good to me, and I brought them back to the table with me before sitting across from the older gentleman.

I tucked in, deciding that assuaging my hunger pains was more important than any conversation. Besides, it probably made me look more interesting, ignoring the man.

Through my bites of chicken, pork, steak and potatoes, I cut my eyes to look at the man. He was obviously in his fifties, a bit portlier than I imagine he would have liked to be, but his joviality reminded me of a man who was supposed to be a thousand miles away, lounging on a ski resort in Sweden.

Without looking up I asked, "Horace? Is that you?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but I know Horace very well. We actually attended Hogwarts together years ago."

I knew that would have made the man much older than his looks, but most wizards aged like that anyway, so it wasn't too surprising. "Well, it's nice to meet you, sir. I'm assuming you are here to give me information on the-"

"You may call me Delphi," he said, ignoring the rest of my statement. It was blatantly obvious he was not giving me his real name. It was also obvious he was kind of a jerk, but then, he would be my boss for the next few months, and what boss isn't a massive jerk? It bothered me that his Scottish accent seemed to fail him at inopportune times, but he played it off rather well, continuing before I could comment. "I will be joining you in the Congo before we actually enter the temple and the caves. But that's not the reason why I'm here."

I continued eating as Delphi surreptitiously pulled his wand from a holster on his arm and put up some type of ward around us. I assumed it was to keep the rest of the patrons from hearing our conversation.

"I'm here," he began, pausing just long enough to finish off the last bite of an eclair. He swallowed before he continued. "Mostly because I'm interested in you, Potter. You showed commendable bravery putting Voldemort in the hole, so kudos for that - you earned 'em." The way he spoke was made stranger by my sudden suspicion that he probably wasn't Scottish, though he would have had to been English, Welsh or Irish to go to Hogwarts with Slughorn... at least, I had never heard of anyone from outside the UK attending Hogwarts. I would have to ask Hermione.

It occured to me that a man as powerful as Delphi would be very, very careful with his appearance. I suspected he was using Polyjuice, but any kind of glamour charm could have disguised him just as easily. In fact, I was capable of similar results, as I had shown Hermione the night before. Still, it wasn't like I was going to start throwing around detection charms; at the very least, I would listen to him before I turned my wand on him.

In any case, it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more guarded. I took a few seconds to practice my Occlumency just to be doubly sure my thoughts were protected from intrusion.

The silence stretched a bit longer than it should have, but his knuckles rapping sharply on the table pulled me from my conspiracy theories. I almost said "Thanks, I guess," but it sounded rude in my head, so I just made a sour face. Delphi laughed, twisting the edge of his moustache with his fat fingers.

"I understand more than you know. What you did was a fluke - there should have been no way you lived and he died. But then, he sealed his own fate when you were just a boy, eh? That you went so far as to destroy six horcruxes proves that you are the right person for this job."

He leaned in closer, his stomach pressing against the table.

"I only say this so that you know I am not underestimating your abilities in the slightest. However, I felt I needed to speak to you personally before you reached Africa. I am concerned that, left to your own devices, you will underestimate the enormity of the task in front of you."

That statement caused me to stop eating long enough to give him a stony-faced look. "Sir, with all due respect, I understand how dangerous horcruxes can be, even when you think you're prepared for them." Thoughts of Dumbledore's blackened and dying hand came to the forefront of my mind, so visceral that I felt the nausea rising in my stomach. Another bite of delicious rotisserie chicken quickly solved that particular problem.

Delphi leaned forward, his hands steepled and his expression grave. "Even so, Mr. Potter, you must recognize that these caves are filled with the shredded souls of nearly a thousand tribesmen. It's like a..." he trailed off, obviously having trouble finding a proper analogy. After a few moments he said, "Well, it's like a massive cellar, housing the souls of the Bokongo wizards. People were murdered by the hundreds to create these horcruxes."

I nodded, thinking to myself that the mission would be a lot more difficult than Slughorn had let on. Something niggled at the back of my brain, and it took me a few moments to realize what it was. Delphi had continued talking but I cut him off.

"Who are the Bokongo?"

"Who the Bokongo are _now_ is not important, as they are obviously quite dead. What the Bokongo were _then_is... In the year 1256 the village of Kurai vanished overnight. Some legends say it was a massive sandstorm; others will tell you that they turned on eachother. We estimate that every last one of them was magical and there were close to five thousand of them when they disappeared."

"Not all of them used their magic, mind, or even knew that they had any, but you get the picture. If they had the knowledge we have today, they would have been able to build a city more magnificent than any that has ever existed, but those were dark, dark times. Men raped and pillaged, women were beaten, children starved, disease flourished... and every day people became more and more reclusive because of that."

He sighed, wiping his forehead with a napkin. Though it was not particularly hot in the restaurant, it was summer, and this was Greece. A soft wind was blowing through the dining room windows, and I found myself enjoying this perhaps more than I should considering Delphi's subject matter. I speared a piece of steak with my fork and contemplated dipping it in the potatoes, as half of my attention was still turned towards my meal. As I ate, Delphi continued his tale.

"A story is told that a wizard named Mbasi Kwanzo ruled amongst the Bokongo people. He was the strongest of warriors, so he had no trouble proving his might, silencing any and all opposition from the other men in the village. It was for this very same reason that the villagers began to worship him, as his success in battle was carried on the voice of each Bokongolese warrior and became as important to them as their spears and armor. Thousands fell before him, and many smaller villages were absorbed by his the spread of his growing kingdom."

"However," Delphi said, "the great Mbasi was ignorant to books and the knowledge held within them because he could not read as well as most of the villagers. He did not know incantations for spells, nor did he have a focus for his magic."

"Despite this he ruled the realm of wizards for as long as anyone did in those days - two, maybe three years without anyone questioning his power. Mbasi was a courageous leader, though quick to take fancy to things beyond his village's borders, yet he was also kind and loyal, and for this he had many wives. One of these wives was Nimi, and she was the most beautiful woman in the entire kingdom."

He paused, shaking his head ruefully. "Nimi was very pleased to be married to such an important man in the tribe, but not everyone was thrilled to see Mbasi and Nimi together. Her cousin, Lukeni Lui, was one of a select few that were vocally opposed to their relationship."

"Now Lukeni was no fool; in fact, he was as intelligent as any among men. His father was the eldest of the family, and as such, he carried the staff that was passed down from generation to generation. Though Nimi's father was the youngest of six, he grew to become the strongest of his brothers, and he was proud to call the leader of the clan his son as he saw a kindred spirit. But Mbasi was young and ruthless, and despite the village elders' pleas to the contrary, he stubbornly led warriors to battle. It was his greatest wish to annex Tinnock, a village that would allow them better access to a river and the ocean. Nimi's father and Lukeni's father both perished, along with a hundred other men, but in the end the Bokongo celebrated their costly victory."

"Peace came with the fall of Tinnock, but Lukeni, who survived the battle, was angry that his father and uncle had perished. He quarrelled with Mbasi, who was also grieving, as many men that were important to him had died. In the aftermath, Lukeni inherited his father's staff, but he did not use it on the farms and in battle as his father did. He seduced widowed women and stole willingly, blaming the theft on orphaned children. Yet because his father was a good man, and Lukeni had fought valiantly in Tinnock, no one suspected his treachery."

"It was months later, after things had returned to normalcy, that Mbasi decided to visit Tinnock. He and fifty men travelled to Tinnock, intending to return before nightfall. Lukeni stayed behind, as Mbasi had lost what little trust he had in the man. Perhaps it was unfortunate," Delphi mused, "that Mbasi did not trust Lukeni, because if Lukeni had travelled with him to Tinnock that day, the Bokongo kingdom would have grown by leaps and bounds."

He shook his head. "Lukeni could not challenge Mbasi's rule, as he would never be backed by the rest of the clan, but he was blinded by his hate so much that he did not see this. He wanted revenge for his father's death, and the vendetta with Mbasi made him reclusive and angry."

"That afternoon, Lukeni met Nimi where all of Mbasi's wives lived and she invited her cousin into her sleeping quarters. She could not have known that Lukeni was angry with Mbasi, nor did she have any reason to suspect he would turn his anger on her. To her great surprise, he made as if to kiss her, and he told her that he was madly in love with her and wouldn't live his life without her. Nimi was sickened by his display, infuriated that he would betray Mbasi so easily. When Nimi rejected his advances he turned on her, and when the other women who had seen his horrible behavior tried to intervene, he used his staff to put them into a deep sleep. Nimi pleaded with him to let the other wives free but he ignored his cousin, binding her in ropes so that she could not run away from him."

"He took her to the tallest tower in the village and screamed to the crowd, 'Mbasi is a fool! See now, the power I hold in my father's staff!' Flashing lights swirled around the village, and all of the Bokongo piled into the streets, some of the eager to see the lights, and many more afraid for their lives. The mob of people grew all around the tower, and Lukeni looked down on them with a sneer."

"Again and again he screamed, 'Mbasi is a fool!' He told the people how his father had denounced Mbasi before the battle at Tinnock, and how they had both prepared to steal his throne for themselves. He told them all how he was the rightful ruler, and poor piteous Mbasi would be on his knees before the night was through. When the crowd began to loudly jeer him he grew even further enraged. 'Warriors come before me!' he said, talking to Mbasi's army, many of whom Mbasi had trained himself. 'We will destroy the other villages with our mighty power. With my staff and your strength!"

"The army did not believe his audacity, but he still had Nimi bound, and they were afraid to see her harmed. 'Put her down!' they cried, but he did not listen."

"Instead, Lukeni pushed Nimi over the balcony, and as she screamed he pointed his staff at her. Just before she hit the ground he stopped her fall, reverting her descent and starting the process over again. Petrified with terror, the girl went into hysterics, startling the people into action."

"The few that knew some type of magic launched attacks at Lukeni, but it was to no avail. Lukeni had knowledge. Lukeni was much stronger."

"It was then that a hush fell over the crowd; the same crowd that had been violently opposed to Lukeni now stood starkly silent, all eyes locked on his screaming visage. Men, women and children alike all found that they could not move a muscle, though their minds screamed for them to run."

"'Bow to me,' Lukeni said, and as one they all bowed. All but one, who was Nimi, struggling against her bindings."

"Their slaves joined them, having been drawn from their work. Slowly but surely Lukeni made his way through the crowd, as if hypnotized by whatever strange, unknown magic he was using. Each warrior, as you might have guessed, was forced to create a horcrux, killing whatever woman, child or slave was closest to him, before killing themselves. Their swords housed the souls."

I didn't gasp or anything, but I did push my half-eaten plate away from me. Lukeni was obviously a seriously screwed up individual.

"The blood bath was awful, Harry. Imagine, seeing through each villager's eyes as they watched their friends and family murdering each other. When it was all over, Nimi was left at the top of the tower, having been forced to watch the entire massacre, unable to even scream for Lukeni to stop."

"When Mbasi finally came back home, he and the other warriors had no idea all of the villagers had been slain. Upon seeing what Lukeni had done Mbasi screamed in shock and rage, "Lukeni! What have you done? These were your people!"

"No," Lukeni laughed. "These were your people. Now they are my people!"

"He swirled his staff above his head, and hundreds of swords rose as one, disappearing into the evening sky. Then Lukeni launched an attack at Mbasi, who was so overcome with grief that he had fallen to his knees."

"Through his tears, Mbasi saw Lukeni's spell coming towards him. "I will not let you!' he screamed, and a white dome of light appeared in front of him, reflecting Lukeni's attack back at the treacherous wizard. Taken by surprise, Lukeni was hit with the brunt of the curse and thrown against the tower. Mbasi penetrated Lukeni with his sword and cut off the treacherous rat's head, but it was too late; the terrible damage had already been done."

Delphi sighed. "Mbasi set his most beautiful wife free and they moved away with the others to whereabouts unknown."

He took a drink of water after the long story, and eyed me expectantly. "This cave that we are visiting... we think it houses all of those horcruxes. As of late we've seen goblins piling in and out of the place, and not the good, Gringotts, counting coins kind either - the bite through your neck and rip out your eyeballs while you're still breathing kind."

I was familiar with both kinds, and particularly liked neither.

"So... basically you're saying that a thousand wizards can be - probably will be - brought back from the dead. But how?" I took a deep breath, thinking quickly. "Would the Goblins be able to do it?"

"I'm not certain. Obviously there is no precedence for this sort of thing, so I'm not even sure at this point whether anyone can bring the horcruxes back to life. But deep inside those caves is a temple that is too risky to be in their hands... it just might tell the answer, if they don't know it already."

"Wow," I said for the third time that morning. "Is it too early for alcohol?"

He just smiled. "I know it seems a bit extreme, but you won't be alone out there, Harry. We've got a team of twenty, very talented people assembled, and many of them have even more experience with horcruxes than you; Aurors; Hitwizards; Warders; Ward-breakers; Dark Arts specialists; even doctors and nurses should something go wrong." His smile fell slightly. "Unfortunately, I'm almost positive that something will go wrong."

I found it strange when I considered that, as far as I knew, Voldemort was the only wizard in recent memory to even know how to construct a horcrux. At least it sounded like I'd have a lot of others helping me destroy the horcruxes. After a some time I said, "I did not know that horcrux use was that widespread, sir."

Delphi shook his head. "It isn't widespread, per se, but someone comes along every few years that thinks that ripping souls apart is the best way to achieve great power. Fools, the lot of them, but they never seem to care." He paused. "Tom Riddle, for example, split his soul into seven pieces because he thought it would grant him some form of immortality. Most likely, he began to lose control of himself after the first horcrux. Yes, you are bound to life even after death, but at the same time you are so attached to a seemingly unimportant object that your fear of someone finding your horcruxes makes you hell-bent on keeping them hidden. In the end, you reveal their location inadvertently or drive yourself absolutely mad. Or, in Tom's case, both."

I nodded, knowing full well the depths of depravity that young Tom Riddle turned to before and after his first horcrux. I thought of poor Myrtle, confined to a bathroom for fifty years or so before Tom was finally put to rest. It was only after she thanked me personally that she allowed herself to move on.

Delphi must have noticed that I was lost in thought, because he finally stood from the table and offered me his hand. I quickly returned the favor, standing and shaking it on auto-pilot. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry... Your reputation precedes you, but you seem to be a level-headed young man, quite unlike the angry, spoiled picture that was painted of you by the British media."

"I'm sure you know what I think of the British media, sir."

Delphi laughed, a hearty chuckle that caused an elderly couple across the restaurant to look up suddenly. "Oh yes, Horace is of the same opinion. It's you that he respects, not the paper." He smiled. "I share the same faith in you, Harry, and I look forward to working with you in the Congo. Take a few days to relax, enjoy your stay in Athens, maybe even pop over to the beach for a dip. I've heard good things about Corinth."

"Thank you, sir." I had actually never been to a beach, but my dream of having dark-skinned women tend to me on the shore seemed to finally be within my reach. "I'll have to try that. I appreciate you taking the time out to meet me and accomodate me-"

He interrupted me, a smirk on his face. "Whether you like it or not, you're an important figure all over the world, and I knew that getting you here was dependent on how tempting of an offer I made to you. You don't care about the money, but the amount I'm paying is well over the odds, even considering the danger you're in. This," he said, waving his right hand at our surroundings, "was just icing on the proverbial cake."

"Nevertheless, thank you for everything, sir."

He nodded, this time accepting my thanks. "Harry, I will see you soon." Then, to my surprise, he handed me an empty wallet. "On Wednesday at six in the evening, I want you to hold this portkey. It will take you straight to the base we'll be working out of, about a half mile from the caves. Once everyone arrives we'll spend a few days mapping out the area, and then we'll slowly work our way into the caves."

"Yes, sir," I said, honestly ready for the conversation to end so that... well, so I could get to that alcohol. And Deni Bonet, if she was still around.

He left without another word, nodding politely and walking out of the restaurant. Delphi was as strange as Horace warned, but not for the reasons my old Potions' professor had given me. It was plain to me that Delphi wasn't telling the whole truth, and yet, what that whole truth entailed would take a lot of digging.

Where better to do a lot of digging than a cave full of goblins in Africa?

* * *

-_End of Chapter Two_


	3. Chapter Three: Hello, Good Night

**Chapter Three: Hello, Good Night**

_She turned her face to mine, sleep in the corners of her blue eyes and her hair matted down on one side, and despite it all, I couldn't help thinking she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Long, thin hands reached across me to flip off the light next to us, and I felt her distinctly female body crawl on top and over me._

_I smiled rather gleefully, recalling the night before. It had been wonderful, and crazy, and all out frightening at a couple points, but it could have been worse so I wasn't complaining..._

_Except that my shoulder hurt like hell from falling, and I was bruised all over, and how was it fair that every time I found a girl worth sleeping with she did more sleeping than anything else? _

_Groaning, I scooted back in the bed to get more comfortable and she cradled her head against my shoulder. I moved my arm gently to hold her more protectively, suddenly glad that things had turned out the way they did, and honestly thrilled to see where they might lead over the next two days._

_"Good night, Harry," she whispered, before yawning and closing her eyes. I watched her as she drifted off, and I ran one hand over her cheek, enjoying the soft skin touching my palm. The sunlight was still streaming through the windows, bright and irritating, but I didn't resist a delirious smile as I was so bone-tired that I couldn't even contemplate rising from the hotel room's magnificent bed. _

_A glance at the clock next to the bed showed the time as seven-thirty. It wouldn't be sufficiently dark until somewhere around nine._

_Good night, indeed._

* * *

As I stood there, staring blankly at the tall, brunette twins that had just stepped out of their room and were conversing in French, it slowly dawned on me that I had no hope of finding my room without someone's assistance. I had been stranded near the elevators for a while, hoping an attendant of some kind would walk by, but I gave up rather quickly and trekked back to the receptionist's desk.

Delphi's story still weighed on my mind, stifling the good mood I had been in earlier that day. I couldn't help feeling that very important information had been left out of our conversation, and only visiting the base and the caves would give me the answers I craved. That left me simultaneously dreading the day I'd leave Greece while also feeling like the day could not come quickly enough.

Lost in my thoughts, it became obvious that I'm horrible with directions when my mind is preoccupied. It took me a few minutes to divine where I was in the hotel, but I reached the lobby eventually. I was pleasantly surprised to see Deni milling about; unfortunately, she wasn't near as cheery as she had been thirty minutes earlier.

"I am so sick of this!" she muttered, obviously convinced she was alone. I listened to her argue with herself about something, quite possibly her career decision; judging by the way she kept referring to her job as a 'fucking waste of her time' she probably wouldn't be working at the Callirhoe much longer. I was also surprised to see how vulgar she was when irritated.

Surprised, and a little aroused. Gods, Deni is hot when she's angry.

"Deni," I said softly, so as not to startle her. She immediately looked as if someone _had_ spooked her, her mouth forming an 'O' of surprise and her right hand creeping towards her midriff where her wand was most likely hidden. I filed that interesting tidbit of information away for later. I gave her a friendly smile, and Deni's worried frown slowly became a grin. "Is something wrong?"

She pushed her bangs aside, revealing a tiny scar on her forehead that actually looked a lot like mine, though hers was smaller and in a different spot. I caught myself staring, enraptured by the sunlight dancing on her round face. "Oh, nothing," she said, waving a hand as if to say it wasn't that important. "I'm just... _seriously_ fed up with my job today." She blew her hair out of her face, gracing me with a friendly smile. There was no trace of the angry scowl she'd worn moments before.

I nodded, slightly unsure whether she was okay or not. If she didn't want to talk to me I guess I'd find out soon enough. "So," I shrugged, grinning at the girl. "Quit and run away with me for the afternoon."

She laughed, her eyes scanning me up and down. "As good an idea as that sounds, Harry, even running away with a millionaire for the afternoon won't solve all my problems." I wondered to myself what kind of problems a well-paid, multi-lingual, excruciatingly attractive blonde would have.

"Bah," I said. I had hoped she would have just said yes, though I honestly expected to be turned down. "I guess I can't ask you to uproot your life for me, eh? We haven't even properly met yet." I offered her my hand. "Harry James Potter."

She shook my hand lightly. Her eyes traced their way up to my scar, which for once, didn't bother me in the slightest; I wanted this particular person to stare at me.

"Well, I've already seen you thousands of times in the newspapers, and I've read a few books where you're mentioned, so I suppose I know you as well as anyone," she said, her voice sly and demure. "I'm off right now anyway. Why not take me for... I don't know, some coffee? It's still pretty early."

I couldn't help it; my eyebrows raised in surprise. Did I really just ask a beautiful girl on a date and get an invitation in return? No way was I going to pass up this opportunity. "Sure. I'd like that," I said, trying not to sound too eager. "I was actually coming to ask your help to find my room. Do you think you could lead me there before we go?"

She smiled. "No problem," she said. "Just follow me."

I wanted to hang back and admire her assets a bit longer, but instead I chose to walk beside her, only glancing at her rear when her attention was turned elsewhere. When I almost collided with a man pushing a cart full of dirty linen, she glanced at me with a challenging look in her eyes.

"Do you mind not staring at my ass the _entire_ time?" she asked, though not nearly as rudely as she probably should have. I couldn't help but wince, and for a moment I was ashamed of myself for my wandering eyes. "Not that I'm against it," she assured me, laughing, "it's just kind of off-putting when you keep running into stuff."

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. "Touche," I said, chuckling at my own expense. "You caught me red-handed. In my defense, it is a rather distracting ass, and I'm pretty sure that guy had it out for me."

She shook her head, still smiling. "I'd imagine everyone has it out for you," she whispered. I wondered what she meant by that, but I decided to keep the conversation rolling.

"Well, I can't say I'm not used to it." I paused. I wasn't really trying to go down that path this early. "Besides, if it wasn't for the whole Boy Who Lived _thing_ I'd probably be working in an apothecary or something droll-"

"Hey!" she said, swatting my arm playfully. "My cousin works in an apothecary!"

My grin intensified. "Let me guess... greasy hair, pale skin, big, hook nose, and no matter how many times he showers he still smells like dust?"

She chuckled. "_She _happens to be very tan, and every time I've been around her she smells perfectly fine." When I gave her an 'oh, really?' look she added, "Well, her hair _is_ kind of greasy... and she _does_ have a big nose..."

"Aha! I knew it!" I said, and we both dissolved into quiet laughter. We had arrived at my hotel room, and I paused at the door with my keycard. "Er..." I was momentarily indecisive, and made up for my hesitation with a quick, "Would you like to come in?"

She also hesitated, looking as though she was considering the offer. After a few seconds she nodded. "Okay, but... no funny stuff. I do have a rape whistle, you know."

I just gave her a look. "Excuse me? Harry Potter, Dark Lord slayer and all around good guy, at your service." I bowed, also opening the door to my room at the same time. She gasped suddenly and I immediately pulled my wand from its holster, swirling around with a curse on my lips.

"Oh my god," she breathed, peering into the room. "It's..."

I turned, still a little wary, and found the most beautiful hotel room I had ever seen. "It's amazing," I said, a little awed, especially considering I was the one who would be staying in the room. She nodded beside me, looking at least as stunned as I felt.

"I was going to say '_fucking_ amazing'," she laughed, walking into the room proper. I joined her, though my eyes were more on her than the room surrounding me. When I did turn away I saw that she was right; everything in sight did look remarkably high-priced.

There were lights of all different colors and varieties; some fixtures lined the ceiling, others jutted out the walls and the floors in green, yellow, red... the combinations seemed limitless, and it definitely added a sense of luxury to the condo. "My eyes kind of hurt," I confessed, blinking rapidly.

"This is the most expensive room here," she said, walking past a full bar and sliding one hand over the vividly red countertop. "I'd imagine you must have dropped a pretty penny to get this one, especially during the summer. I mean... this countertop is made of enameled lava, Harry. That's four hundred dollars a square foot!"

Obviously Delphi didn't mince words when he told me he wanted me to enjoy my stay. It occured to me that my new boss had paid for this room, acting as if it was worth every knut just to have me here. Delphi must be an extremely wealthy, well-connected man.

"Honestly, Deni... I didn't pay for this. It's, well... it's complicated."

She snorted, sitting primly on the edge of a leather armchair. "Isn't everything?" My concentration wavered for a moment, as my eyes were drawn to the edge of her skirt, where bare skin met smooth, black silk. She shifted her legs then, crossing them and giving me another one of those challenging looks. I belatedly averted my glance, my face and neck feeling rather warm.

"I'm not really supposed to say. It's kind of... I don't know. Top secret? Confidential?" I knew that I sounded tremendously lame, but I had reservations about telling her too much. She rolled her eyes, obviously agreeing with my unspoken thoughts. "Essentially I've been given a job opportunity. A really, really well-paying job opportunity on another continent. And I will have to do some really, really..."

"Really, really?" she asked rhetorically, cutting me off. "Look, Harry... I understand there are some things you're not going to immediately reveal to me. You want to talk about it? Talk. You want to keep it secret? Cool. I've got secrets too." She smiled. "What's my middle name?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, caught off-guard. Her middle name? How the hell was I supposed to-

"What's my middle name?" she said a little louder, whipping her hair around.

Getting irritated, I snapped, "I don't know? You tell me."

"Secret is my middle name," she said with a straight face. Despite myself I laughed a little, though it really wasn't that funny. Maybe it was because I was nervous, and she was the first girl I had ever met from outside the country. Still, it seemed like Deni knew how to push my buttons right off the bat, and that reminded me distinctly of 'oh-what's-her-name'.

"Whatever, Deni," I shrugged. "It's not that I don't want to talk about it, it's just that I'm not sure if I'm supposed to, or even allowed to. Suffice to say I'm not going to be staying in Greece very long."

She didn't look too saddened at the news, though I noticed she looked away from me. "How long?" she asked, her eyes roaming the hotel room.

"Three days counting today."

She nodded. "So," she drawled, "we'd better get started. If we're going to," she waved her hand. "What was it you said? 'Run away for the afternoon'?"

Right.

"Just let me grab my things." Reaching in my left pocket I removed the luggage I had prepared the night before. A quick flick of my wand returned the bags to their usual proportions. Deni took one look at my luggage and laughed.

"Wow, Harry," she said, giggling. "You don't exactly pack light, do you?"

"Well, obviously I'm going to be on the job for a long time. No popping back and forth to Manchester just for a change of clothes." She nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer.

"Manchester, huh? You're not one of those soccer hooligans... are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, in England, and everywhere else in the world, it is called _football._" She rolled her eyes in return, which brought the grin back to my face. "But I've never really been a fan. I've seen a few games... even flew my broomstick over Old Trafford during the derby two or three times, but I'm much more interested in Quidditch." I puffed out my chest jokingly. "I was pretty good during Hogwarts."

"That makes sense," she said, cutting her eyes at me suddenly. "Of course you would call flying a three-foot stick over a hundred miles an hour a sport." She shook her head, though I could sense she was just joking around. "Did you know that more people die from falling off a broomstick than Apparition accidents, Portkey pileups, Floo flubs, and broken Portals combined?"

"Totally worth it," was my immediate reply. "Have you ever been on a Firebolt?"

She scrunched up her nose. "Is that the latest broom model?" I nodded, and she snorted. "I don't think I'd like it much. I have a _healthy_ fear of heights. We don't even have Quidditch in the States, except at the professional level." She suddenly reminded me of Hermione, who had always abhorred flying and had no problems telling Ron or myself to go 'bugger ourselves' every time we asked her to join us.

"Well, I doubt you'd keel over dead if I took you on a ride." Wand in hand, I summoned my Firebolt, which flew from its case as quickly as if I had been riding it. "I promise not to go fast..."

"No."

"Please?"

She bit her lip, worriedly looking out of the window closest to us. We were already ten to fifteen stories up, and it must have seemed even farther to Deni. I considered challenging her just to see if she would rise to the bait, but if she didn't like riding brooms I wasn't going to push the issue.

Surprisingly, she relented. "Alright, Harry. I will ride with you if you promiseto go slow." She paused. "And not Harry Potter slow... _real_people slow."

For some reason I thought this was hilarious. "Are you trying to say I'm fake? In any case, I _promise_ to go slow."

She nodded, looking lost in thought. "How are you going to get out of this window without the Muggle guests seeing you? It doesn't matter who you are, Harry; if you break the Statute of Secrecy they are going to toss you out on your ass-"

"Calm down," I laughed. "I've got this under control."

I turned and summoned my Invisibility Cloak for good measure. "Do you need a coat?" I asked, having manipulated the cloak so that the inside was turned her way, rendering it easy to see.

"That's probably not a bad idea," she said. "It's warm outside but it'll probably be a lot colder once we're flying."

I smiled and handed her the cloak. Deni quickly draped it over her shoulders and turned away, and I was forced to stifle my laughter as I followed her to the window. With a flick of my wand the window raised itself, allowing us an unimpeded view of the hotel's gardens.

Deni looked down and gasped in shock. She threw the cloak off of her on reflex and I couldn't reign in my laughter any longer; I pointed at the blonde girl, imagining my face must have been as full of mirth as hers was afraid. "I'm sorry," I said through my guffaws. "It was too tempting to pass up."

"Well, I'm tempted not to fly at all!" she shot. Her face relaxed as she realized everything was fine and that I had just given her an Invisibility cloak to use on our journey. I stopped laughing, though the smile was probably still etched on my face. She sighed, and I noticed the good humor slowly returning to her eyes. "You're a jerk."

"I know," I laughed. "My ex-girlfriend tells me the same thing every time I see her."

She snickered. "Is that... the Weasley girl? Jannie? Jeanie?"

"Ginny, actually. She's kind of a jerk in her own right, as you might imagine. Her brothers are a lot easier to get along with now that I've stopped... y'know..." I trailed off, unsure how to communicate that I had been having regular sex with the girl without really wanting to commit to her.

Again, she snickered. "Fucking her without giving a fuck about her?" With her left index finger and thumb she made a circle, and then ran her right index finger through it repeatedly.

I scratched the back of my head. "Yeah, I guess you could put it that way, but I wasn't as cruel as it sounds. Even now I still care about her; I just can't promise her the type of life she says she wants to live."

She hummed to herself, tapping her index finger on her chin. "And what kind of life is that?"

"Honestly?" After her encouraging nod, I answered her question. "I'm pretty sure she wants to settle down near her parents. They have seven children, of which she's the only girl, so she's always been spoiled and been given just about everything she wants that they can afford. To make things worse, she wants to live exactly like them, and she doesn't care about actually making something of herself or seeing the world or... well, virtually anything that I _do _care about. Every job opportunity I had was '_too dangerous, Harry'_; every time we went somewhere she was paranoid a Death Eater was going to pop up and lay us out in the street." I took a deep breath, partly to shut myself up; I hadn't intended to say so much about someone I really hated talking about, especially to a girl I had just met.

I shook my head sadly. "The only regret I have is that I didn't end it sooner; in fact, I should have never even kissed her."

I thought back to the Quidditch game Ginny had won, in my sixth year and her fifth, and the kiss we shared in the common room after the game. It was a brilliant time for us, and we had some great fun together, but I knew I could never turn back now that I'd decided to move on. I was truly over her, and Ginny knew it as well, but I wondered if Deni would think I was still pining for what I lost.

"Wow," she said, her lovely smile back in full effect. "Who would have thought you'd have such melodrama on your hands _after _Voldemort?"

I immediately recognized that she was using Voldemort's name, though I wasn't sure if that was bravery, ignorance, or just because she was American and had never been forced to deal with the Dark Lord. Either way, I decided not to mention it. Eventually I answered her probably rhetorical question. "Me, for one. Right after the second Battle of Hogwarts I had a gnawing feeling that things would only get worse for me. Sure enough, Minister Shacklebolt wanted me to join the Auror corps, Rita Skeeter wouldn't stop hounding me about a book deal, the Daily Prophet reported every single facet of my home life, and most of my friends started to look at me like I was larger than life."

She nodded in understanding. "So all of this... breaking up with your girlfriend, taking this job, visiting Greece... all of it was so you could get out of the public eye?"

I shrugged. "Well, I'd be lying if I said it was all to get out of the public eye, but that played a major part in the decision. Mostly it was because I wanted to try something different and, even though Ginny was being way too paranoid, she was kind of right - people _do_ want me to suffer, and if I allow them to control my life, I will always be stuck in that same position. Leaving England is the first time in my life that I have total freedom to do what I want when I want."

I swung my right leg over the broomstick, hoping to get in the air so we could change the subject. It just wouldn't do to bore the poor girl to death... though I'd probably scare her to death on the ride anyway. "Enough about my life. I'm here to forget about the past and focus on the new, vastly improved future."

I tried not to make eye contact, unsure what to say after being so forthcoming about my personal affairs. I didn't know what was causing me to reveal such secrets to her when I was usually bound and determined to keep them to myself. I couldn't remember the last time I had spoken freely with anyone about my life, much less a girl I just met an hour ago.

A few moments passed in silence before she joined me on the broomstick, taking up position behind me and wrapping her long, thin arms around my waist. She whispered in my ear, "The future is too unpredictable. Let's just focus on the present, hmm?"

I nodded, not really trusting myself to speak. The broom lurched beneath us, as we exited the hotel room the unconventional way, dropping from the window and soaring over the gardens. Her screams of fear and delight accompanied my own boisterous laughter as we headed outside the city. I wasn't really sure where I was going, but then again, it didn't matter to me; whatever happened between Deni and I, I knew that this was going to be the most memorable part of my trip to Greece.

* * *

"Where do you plan on taking us?" Deni screamed in my ear. We had been flying silently for a half an hour, her arms still painfully tight around my midsection. It was apparent that she was enjoying herself, but had I flown like I normally did, she would have been screaming in fright. Fortunately for her, I had no problem drifting lazily through the clouds, taking my time to see an overhead view of Athens and the surrounding area.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure," I yelled, turning my face slightly so she could understand me better. "You said you wanted some coffee. Do you know any good places around here?"

She shivered against me, perhaps afflicted by the word 'coffee', which would have kept her quite a bit warmer in the brisk wind. "How about.. anywhere near the ground." Through my peripheral vision, it looked like Deni was starting to get a bit peaked.

Laughing, I guided the broom slowly downward, flying in a circle until we reached the ground. When her feet touched down, so did her arse, which hit the grass rather heavily. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine..." she said, grumbling something significantly more explicit under her breath. "I'm just not used to flying like that. Is it always this nauseating?"

Chuckling, I said, "Pretty much. You get used to the sensation after the first few times, but it's always there, y'know? Personally, I think it's the second best feeling in the world."

"And what's the first?"

I shook my head, not really embarrassed, but probably still blushing. I avoided the question. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

She snorted, standing, and using my proffered forearm to steady herself. "I'm sure I can guess." She made an 'O' shape with her mouth again, though it was significantly more devious this time around.

I laughed as she stood up straight and removed her hand from my arm. Frowning slightly at the loss of contact, I changed the subject. "It looks like there is a coffee shop right up the street, if you're still interested. You seem like you could use something warm."

She nodded fervently, before grimacing and closing her eyes. "Oof," she murmured, holding her head in her hands. "I feel like we just flew through a hurricane. I probably can't even walk straight."

With a silent wave of my wand, her eyes opened wide and she looked at me curiously. "One Steadying charm, courtesy of Hermione Granger." I answered the unasked question on her lips, adding, "Hermione and her husband Ron were my best friends in school. She hated flying, for pretty much the same reason you do - Hermione gets headsick about thirty seconds into a flight." Placing my wand back into my holster, I smiled. "Feel better?"

"Loads," she replied, sarcasm dripping off the word. She sounded a little more grateful when she added, "Thanks, Harry."

I nodded. "No problem. Shall we?"

We set off, walking in the direction of a shop with a huge cup of java hanging over the entrance. Deni placed her hand back on my forearm and I returned her smile. "So, did you get all of the flying out of your system? Or should I take a barf bag back with me?"

I wasn't quite sure what a barf bag was, but I assumed she was talking about getting sick on the return flight. I shook my head. "No, no... we can Apparate back when we're finished."

"Good," she muttered. "But I am _not _side-along Apparating. Last time I almost choked to death."

Something niggled at the back of my brain. I almost said, 'Where were you Apparating to' but that was obviously none of my business and I didn't want to sound like I was making a big deal out of it. I was reminded of the Parthenon, where a person's intentions could spell their own demise, and I wondered if her 'almost choking to death' was a sign of her being deceitful in some way.

Still, Deni had not given me any reason to suspect betrayal, and I thought it would be a grave injustice if I ruined a beautiful day in Greece over something as silly as getting my feelings hurt. After all, everyone had a life story, but not everyone's was happy. My first few times side-long Apparating I had trouble too. I backflipped out of the Floo at the Weasley's a few weeks ago, so who was I to judge her for having similar problems?

I cleared my throat, the conversation having grown stale during my reverie. What the hell was I going to say to negate the fact that I now saw this beautiful blonde girl as some kind of threat? Was I really becoming so paranoid that I judged everyone before I even knew them? "How about that cup of coffee?" I said, hating how gruff my voice sounded.

She didn't comment, but for some reason, I didn't expect her to. She was savvy, and sharp as a tack, so there was nearly no way she didn't pick up on my hesitation.

"So... no side-along Apparating. We'll just meet at the Parthenon and walk back to the hotel." I laughed. "Maybe you can actually lead me there... I got lost on the way the first time around."

"Really?" She scoffed. "You must get lost pretty easily..."

She had echoed my thoughts from earlier, but I thought it prudent to at least defend myself. "I know exactly where we are."

"Where?"

I pointed at the sign to the right of the entrance. "Moscato."

She laughed and pointed at the same sign. "Moschato. Moscato is a type of wine."

"Anyway, that's where we are. Told ya I knew it." We argued good-naturedly about who _really_ knew where we were as we entered the coffee shop and sat down at a booth. Before long, a waitress came over to take our orders.

"_Mocha Latte_," I said immediately. I didn't want Deni to have to order for me, and hopefully that was a type of coffee that the entire world could understand. Fortunately, the waitress nodded politely and turned to Deni, who carried on a full conversation with the waitress before she ordered.

After a few moments had passed, I spoke to my companion. "So, Deni... tell me more about America. What's it like compared to here?"

"Honestly, it's not that much different to me, but I could see how someone else from America would have trouble adjusting. I grew up in a household that spoke Greek, as my mother was born here, but I was raised in America, where nearly everyone speaks English. I'm sure it's the same in England." She nodded to me, and I smiled encouragingly. "But we've always had our little counter-culture, so coming here is kind of a dream come true as far as that's concerned. It's just that... this place is so massive, and I don't like straying too far from the hotel or my apartment. It's just..."

"Not safe?"

Deni shook her head. "I don't feel like I'm going to get attacked or anything. It's more like I don't trust people here the way I do back home. It's kind of difficult to explain unless you've lived here a while." She smiled. "Maybe once you've been... wherever it is you're supposed to go... for a few months, you'll..."

She just kind of trailed off. "Anyway, I miss home a lot of the time. Sometimes I think about transferring back, or starting from scratch and trying to get a job in New York, or Dallas, or Santa Fe... But it is a lot simpler staying in this dead end job, making just enough for it to be worth the mobs and the traffic, and..." She paused, as if thinking of the right words to say. "All these horribly tanned older men... it's so much worse than in New York." She pretended to shiver, and made a seemingly disgruntled face that I just found rather cute.

Laughing, I said, "I've heard about those... but in England we mostly have older men with no tan whatsoever. It can be rather cold, y'know, even in summer."

"Oh, trust me, New York is _freezing_, especially compared to Athens, but you can still see tons of overweight, hairy-chested men roaming around, looking for women like me to hit on." She shrugged, looking away from me. "I guess I should take it as a compliment, but... I don't know... I just get _so _tired of every guy I meet checking me out non-stop! It's like I can't even have a conversation with a man sometimes!"

I turned my eyes away just in time, having been looking down her blouse with a ferocity I didn't know I was capable of. Were those _real?_

I drummed my fingers against the table. "Are we really so boring that we're talking about old men on a date?" She laughed, breaking the suddenly somber mood. Thinking on my feet, I asked the first question that came to mind. "So, Deni... what is your real middle name?"

"_Danger_," she drawled, winking at me. I rolled my eyes and she relented, giggling quietly. "My middle name is actually Andrea."

"Deni Andrea Bonet..." I murmured, trying out her full name for the first time and finding it rolled off of my tongue. "That's beautiful."

"Thanks," she said shortly. I assumed she had heard similar comments thousands of times in her life, so I changed the subject, just hoping I could keep her talking long enough to soothe my own unease about the date.

As it turned out, the longer we sat there waiting for our respective coffees to show up, the more details I picked out from our conversation, and I was actually able to shed some light on Deni's background. Her mother and father had met when he was working for the Blues, the police force in the United States. He was stationed for a few weeks in Greece, protecting the American camp during the Quidditch World Cup in Athens, when one night he saw a man pulling a tall blonde woman into one of the unoccupied tents. Sensing that she was in trouble, Alexander Bonet ran in, wand blazing, and caught the drunk man trying to forcefully disrobe the woman.

Francine Loris, frightened for her own life, ran to Alexander and wrapped her arms around him, crying into his blue robes. He took pity on her, as she was embarrassed that the man she had come to the World Cup with had treated her like a common whore, and Alexander promised her that he would tell no one about her ordeal, to which she broke down in tears again. When he asked her if she needed a place to stay, she eventually told him that she had been living with the man for a week or two, and she had nowhere else to go. Alexander immediately offered her his living quarters, which were sparse but at the very least had running water and food.

By the time the next World Cup rolled around, the two of them attended as a married couple. It was only a year or so later that they had Deni, who claimed to be an only child.

"They spoiled me rotten, I think," she informed me, smiling at the memory. "I mean... okay. One day we went to a fair... y'know, the Muggle kind with the mechanical rides and the goldfish bowls and stuff?" It sounded vaguely familiar so I nodded. "Well, we were all having the best time, but I saw this stuffed doll I really _really _wanted. So, my dad goes to play the shooting game, but he's awful at it, and the best he can win is a smaller version of the doll I wanted."

She chuckled. "I was maybe... 4, 5 years old when we went, and I had just started watching Looney Tunes regularly." My face betrayed me then, confused as I was, and she laughed in response. "It's a cartoon they play all the time in the States. Y'know, a big funny rabbit eating a carrot, saying 'What's up, Doc?' Anyway," she said, noting my blank look. "That's the doll I wanted and when I only got the little one, I threw a temper tantrum. All of the dolls pulled themselves off the prongs on the wall and walked straight over to me, talking to people as they passed and chewing on their carrots."

I laughed at her story, though I'm sure it would have been heartier if I knew what the hell she was talking about.

"You should have seen the look on my parents' faces... not to mention the Muggles freaking out all over the place." She laughed uproariously. "But I didn't even get a slap on the wrist, because my parents were so thrilled I had performed accidental magic."

I smiled contentedly. "Oh, I can top that 'accidental magic' story."

"I bet you can top every single one of my magic stories, Harry," she laughed. "For better or worse, you're a walking and talking _legend_. The easiest fight against Voldemort would be more interesting than anything I've ever done, I'm sure." Deni's voice turned serious a moment later. "Do you think you could tell me one?"

I was usually reluctant to divulge any information about my skirmishes with Voldemort, and on this occasion I felt no different; I shook my head in the negative, "I'd really rather not talk about Voldemort. Some of those memories are the worst of my life, so... it's a bit difficult reliving them, even though I've definitely come to terms with everything that happened. I hope you understand."

She was frowning, I could tell, but she pasted a smile on her face nonetheless and let the issue die. "Okay. How about the accidental magic story then?"

That was actually a happy memory for me, so I had no qualms opening up about the day at the zoo ten years previous. "Well, as you probably know, I didn't grow up with my real parents. My Aunt Petunia and my Uncle Vernon resented me for having magic when they did not; my Aunt was mostly jealous because my mother was more beautiful and talented than her, and my Uncle wanted to, in his words, 'stomp the magic right out of me' so it's no surprise that I had no idea I was even a wizard." I snorted. "Merlin, how I would have tortured the three of them if I had even an inkling that I was stronger than them. They weren't impressed when I finally got my Hogwarts letters either, but that's another story for another day."

She nodded encouragingly and I continued. "Anyway, for my cousin's twelfth birthday my Aunt and Uncle decided to take him to the zoo. The babysitter was busy, probably feeding her _thousands_ of cats, and I had to tag along as they didn't trust me alone in the house."

"Flash forward to the zoo, and I'm walking behind everyone, unnoticed, trying to avoid getting in my cousin's way because he loved to shove me unannounced to the concrete. Eventually, we made our way to the reptile's den, where the big snakes are. Dudley steps up to the glass to mock a particularly large boa constrictor, and... I have no idea how, but I made the glass disappear just as he put his full weight on it." I laughed aloud, momentarily joined by her quiet titters. "Then, to make matters worse, the glass reappeared once he was on the inside. Fortunately for him, the snake slithered out of its den and onto the pavement; unfortunately for everyone else, there was a snake on the pavement."

"I can imagine your Aunt and Uncle were pleased..."

"Beyond pleased. They were ecstatic to be able to punish me."

We both erupted in laughter, causing the waitress who had just brought us our steaming hot drinks to look at us with undisguised curiosity. Deni turned to the woman and said a few words in Greek, causing the waitress to smile at me and walk away. I followed her with my eyes, wondering why the woman was sashaying away from me, back arched and ass out.

"What did you say to her?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she said, winking. "If you do happen to come back to this coffee shop, I'd suggest staying away from the man staring daggers at you."

I glanced over to find a rather burly man eyeing me with a fair amount of hatred. He was speaking animatedly to the waitress and pointing in my direction. The waitress rolled her eyes when the man's attention was turned my way, and seemed to be patiently trying to calm him down. I smiled, waved, and ducked my head, drawing my companion's laughter.

We drank our drinks slowly, and it was long after mine had been cold that we decided to leave. We had already paid, so we walked hand in hand towards the exit. I smiled, gripping the door handle, when I noticed a man lurking on the other side.

"Who is that..." I said, mostly to myself. Deni looked up with a smile on her face, meeting my eyes. "What is that guy doing?"

As I was opening the door I realized something was off, but it was too late; sensing sudden destruction I leapt aside, pulling Deni to the ground with me and yelling, "Everybody down!"

The few patrons in the shop screamed in fright as the front of the building exploded with the force of more than a dozen spells; I felt the structure begin to collapse and I immediately rushed Deni to her feet, guiding her with my strength across the stone floor and back towards our seats.

Deni was repeatedly screaming, "What the fuck is going on?" Her face was painted red with exertion and she was breathing heavily, so I suspected this was her first time in a dangerous situation. She wasn't going to be much help to me, and she would most likely endanger herself in the process, which would force me to...

"Deni, I need you to listen very closely." Her eyes locked on me immediately, and I smiled at her to ease her fear. "Apparate to the Parthenon and return to my room. If you see anything suspicious..."

She nodded and straightened herself, preparing for her Apparation. It was at that same moment the second barrage of spells came, smashing through the few windows that were left standing and covering the man and woman who had argued over me with shards of glass. With a gut-wrenching shock I saw that the woman's eyes had been pierced, and her screams joined the noise from the spellfire.

"Oh my god!" Deni screamed, tears running down her face. "What the fuck-"

"Apparate now, damnit!" I grabbed her to side-along Apparate but it soon became apparent that neither of us would be able to use Apparation; the strongest wards I had felt in some time were draped over the destroyed building like a blanket.

I pushed Deni back again and turned to defend us. If we couldn't escape I would put up one hell of a fight. It suddenly occurred to me that I was as ready as I could be for this, and that I had been craving this rush of exhilaration for years now, and I was finally going to have an opportunity to expend that pent up energy.

I raised a shield and turned to Deni, who was on the ground and looking at me for directions. "Move to the back!"

I took two steps and felt the building lurch again; a piece of the ceiling the size of a piano fell, and I rolled at the last possible second, striking the wall next to me with my body but thankfully avoiding being flattened.

My ribs ached as I tried to stand, and it took me quite some timeto reach my feet. I could see that Deni hadn't been harmed yet, and that helped seal my resolve to keep her in one piece. I screwed up my concentration and yelled the first incantation I could think of, aimed directly for my broken coffee cup.

"_Portus_," I intoned, thinking of the password I would like to use. 'Holy fuck' sounded like a good enough one at the moment.

"Holy fuck!" I screamed, causing Deni to look up in fright. I swung my arm around her, pulling her to my side and hugging her tightly just as I felt the jerk in my navel.

I was aiming for the hotel room, but I honestly had no idea where we'd end up; I decided, against the rush of guilt and fear, that any place was better than a demolished coffee shop, and any outcome was better than seeing Deni and I crushed. I felt additional guilt at the thought I was leaving more than one person to their death, but there was no time to change their fates; I could literally feel the earth shaking uncontrollably, and whatever was going to happen next would be the end of all of us.

With an abrupt and altogether too familiar jolt of pain I felt something heavy slam into me, followed immediately by Deni's limp body. I gasped, hurting like hell and bruised all over, but I checked her out without a moment's hesitation. I sighed in relief as I realized she had just fainted during the portkey.

A further glance around revealed that we had fallen through the canopy of my bed in the hotel room. Deni's head was on my shoulder, and I was in no hurry to move. I didn't think I could move either.

I tried to listen for any signs of movement outside my room, but the adrenaline from the skirmish had left me and I found myself weak and weary. I felt the first signs of magical exhaustion; the tindrils of unnatural fear creeping up my spine, along with the tingling sensation in my wand arm, had me more than a little worried about intruders, but it wasn't long before I slowly began to drift off. Just before I fell asleep it occurred to me that although today was certainly memorable for many reasons, evading another murder attempt wasn't quite what I had been hoping for.

Some time passed as my thoughts drifted aimlessly into dreams, but eventually I was roused by Deni rolling closer to me. She turned her cheek against mine, leaving my hand painstakingly close to her partially exposed chest.

Well, I _guess_ this day wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

-_End of Chapter Three_


	4. Chapter Four: Lukeni's Maze

**Chapter Four: Lukeni's Maze**

The rest of the evening and early morning with Deni Bonet went by in a swirl of passionate love-making, tender conversation, rest, and _finally_, recovery. It seemed Deni had realized her life had very nearly been cut short and, in a happy twist of fate, she also seemed determined to ignore that fact by doing naughty things to me.

My struggle to accept that her fervor for intimacy was more to do with her coping mechanism than my sex appeal lasted all of ten seconds. By then she had crawled on top of me, pulling her shirt off in the process, before pressing her lips against me with an intensity Ginny never could quite get the hang of.

I decided my 'saving people thing' could and should be used in other, particularly satisfying ways. Those thoughts, however, made me think of the others in the coffee shop the night before, and I felt a great deal of guilt and shame that I didn't even _try _to save their lives. At the time I had been so concerned with Deni's well-being that I didn't bother to fight back, or to cast a simple _Wingardium Leviosa _on the falling ceiling, or to include the other men and women in my Portkey...

Deni's eyelashes fluttering against my neck was enough to break me from my thoughts, and any new sexual position kept me sufficiently dazed, distracting me from an otherwise melancholy mood. So, I pulled a Snape and used Occlumency to dampen the pervasive sadness, although I would revisit the memories when I was alone. In my mind's eye I could vividly see the waitress, her eyes full of razor-sharp glass, screaming while her husband stood motionless, unable to help his wife at all.

And yet, lying beside me was a satiated demi-goddess named Deni, who had just fucked me so long and hard that, for long stretches of the day and night, I couldn't stop smiling. It made for strange, convoluted emotions.

We enjoyed the amazing room to ourselves, spending most of the morning either looking out the windows at the wonderful scenery or tucked in bed, glued to each other by the hip. I ordered a bevy of dishes over lunch, delivered by room service personnel that I thought might recognize Deni, though they never said a word or made any motion to greet her. For my own part, I was just thankful nobody was asking questions about a high-paying customer sleeping with the hot blonde working the front desk. For this reason we were staying inside as much as possible, as she didn't want to risk getting in trouble with upper management; even though our relationship was entirely innocent in nature, she didn't think it would do her career any favors if she was caught _literally _with her pants down.

The one time we did leave the room we ran into Delphi... or at least, a man I thought was Delphi. When I greeted him, he spoke in a language so foreign I didn't dare try to decipher it, though Deni cottoned on immediately. It was obvious the man didn't recognize me, and it confirmed my hunch that Delphi was not only hiding himself with a false name, but also with a false body. I nodded meekly and hurried ahead, avoiding Deni's questions as best I could without revealing anything important to my quest in Africa.

On my second day in Greece, the front page of the morning newspaper showed the levelled coffee shop, surrounded by police and reporters, aflame with a ghostly green figure that had clouded my nightmares for more than two decades. Fear shot through me like fire and my hands instantly shook, so I removed them from Deni's leg, which had crossed my own underneath the covers as we lay in bed recovering from our grandiose meal.

"_Morsmorde_," I whispered, ignoring Deni's quizzical look. She shifted her body to lean around me and look at the newspaper, and I was tempted to hide it from her, just to save myself from our inevitable conversation. Perhaps I could tell her I was checking the football scores? Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to react before she gasped.

"What the hell is _that_?" she said, pointing at the offending photo.

I sighed. Did it really have to be the Dark Mark? And in Greece of all places? There was no chance this wouldn't make the news in England, and anyone with half a brain could put two and two together. So, what to tell Deni? After some thought I settled for: "It's basically the Dark Lord Voldemort's calling card."

She turned her disgusted look to me, thought she relaxed a bit before she spoke. "What do you mean, Harry? Someone killed - I mean, _you _killed him, right?" She was quite obviously getting flustered. "I thought he's dead!"

"He is dead; I can promise you that much, but some of his followers... the _lieutenants_ are still alive..." The faces of Lucius Malfoy and Thorfinn Rowle floated at the edge of my vision, and I grimaced at the thought of either one of those two being involved. "Most of them went to jail, but some people have money... _big _money, and some people _need _money, and things like _justice _mean less to them than cold hard Galleons do." I wasn't just running my mouth either; scumbags like Daphne Greengrass, a spy at Hogwarts during her last year, walked free because their parents were as deep in the pocket as Malfoy.

"I can think of at least five Death Eaters who walked free, not counting their happy little Pureblood Muggle-hating cult families, who are just as _fucked up_ as the rest of them. They certainly wouldn't care about murdering innocent Muggles if it meant getting a free shot at me when my guard's down. The man who attacked us had to be a Death Eater to even know that bloody spell."

"So, you're telling me that they are still after you?" She stared at me in disbelief, suddenly clutching her dressing gown a little closer to her body. "After all this time they're still trying to _kill _you?"

Lucius had been a good Samaritan as of late, but there was still a chance that it could be him, and maybe even Draco involved. Then again, I suppose anyone with a broomstick could have followed us, and a tracking charm could have told them I was in Moschato... a scrying spell might have located us if cast by a strong enough wizard, and I knew five to ten people off-hand that probably wanted me dead.

My first thought was Delphi, as he had been close enough to cast a spell on me, but then... why would he want to kill me before he got me to solve his little horcrux mystery? Provided the Portkey worked, I would be leaving the next day at noon to go to the Congo, just as Delphi had said. Was it paranoid to think that he was setting me up?

"Harry," Deni said, the first vestiges of anger rising in her normally soft voice. She waved a hand in front of my face, back and forth. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure, honestly," I muttered, avoiding her last question. What was I supposed to say? I'm fine, sorry about the whole 'nefarious plot to murder our asses' _thing_. It's something you get used to.

I gave her a non-chalant look, which was probably a mistake. "I didn't think I was that important to them these days. I mean, it's been three years since the last time someone tried to kill me, and I didn't expect-"

"_Three_ years! I have never even been in a fist fight with another person, much less ALMOST MURDERED!"

Okay. Definitely a mistake.

She pulled away from me, long blonde hair swirling around her face, and she angrily blew the offending hair out of her eyes. It looked to me as if she was fighting off an urge to rip me a new one, and while I had thought her particularly attractive when she was angry the previous morning, I wasn't as enthralled with her beauty when she was pissed off at me.

She controlled her voice then, dropping the volume but keeping the same level of intensity. "If you think it's okay for people to just... _blow up_ coffee shops to get to you, murdering innocent Muggles, and destroying entire city blocks in the process..." She paused, scrunching her face up as if she found me daft. "If you think that isn't _important _then _I think _we are done here!"

"Deni," I soothed, trying to calm her down, despite getting nervous myself because I knew I was failing, "Please just settle down. I know it's a lot to deal with right now, but I think you'll see-"

"I just - for _fuck's sake_, Harry, this is more than a lot to deal with! This is our lives at stake! Aren't you even a teensy bit _concerned_ that your life is so damned dangerous? Does it even bother you that men and women we just met are now dead _for absolutely no reason_? So, you tell me why the _fuck _those people had to die!" She looked at me, and I could tell she wanted me to answer her, though I honestly had nothing worthwhile to say. I couldn't help that collateral damage followed me everywhere I went, and I already felt bad enough about the people who had died in Moschato. Perhaps using Occlumency had made me seem like an uncaring, selfish jerk, but I thought it was better than blubbering about it while I had a naked, emotional woman in my care. It wasn't my fault people tried to kill me on a regular basis, just like it wasn't her fault she got caught up in this...

"I don't know, Deni... I told you I was just as surprised as everybody else!"

"But you _knew _this could happen, didn't you? There had to be some reason they were there. Don't tell me it was a fucking fluke!"

I couldn't say I was surprised that Deni was acting this way; truthfully, this argument should have happened sooner. The romantic attraction between us, and the need for physical contact, and the _fucking_, had only delayed the inevitable. When it came down to it, this relationship was never going to work... and I think we were both starting to see it.

I shook my head. "I had no idea, Deni... I _swear_! I wouldn't put innocent people in danger - not now, and not ever! You don't understand... I told absolutely _no one _I was coming to Greece, and yet somehow they knew _exactly _where I was." I sighed, holding my head in my hands. "It's not my fault, Deni... if there was anything I could do I would!"

"Then why the _fuck _are we sitting in bed!" She ripped the covers off of her legs and stood, grabbing her clothes from the floor as she went. Before I could ask her where she was going she was already half-dressed. She deftly moved her fingers and the front of her bra clasped together, and as I watched her angrily pack, obviously getting ready to leave, I knew she would not be coming back. She slipped on the same shirt she had worn yesterday and, despite all the dirt and grime from the destroyed coffee shop, Deni still looked amazing. "I've got to get out of here," she mumbled to herself.

"Deni, wait!" I yelled, but it was too late; she had already grabbed her things and was walking to the door. She slung it open with a grunt, pausing only to deliver what I thought was sure to be a mighty last blow. I was not disappointed.

"You know what, Harry Potter? I _really_ liked you. You were a perfect gentleman, and for what it's worth, the sex was outstanding. You're rich, and famous, and funny when you're not being so anal about everything. But the simple fact that you're in so much danger everyday... I don't think a relationship between us would work. I'm a normal, city girl - not a crime-stopping teenage phenom. Besides, you're going off to Africa tomorrow, and _now_," she drawled, as if this whole thing was my fault, and I had ruined her entire time in Greece, "I'm going back to America as soon as this job is over, so let's just call this what it was." She paused, as if gauging my reaction.

"For what it's worth, Deni Bonet," I said, my voice level, but my eyes downcast. Inwardly, I was seething with anger and disappointed in myself that I couldn't say the right thing to make her stay, at least one more night. "I really liked you as well. You are a charming, intelligent, beautiful person and I know you're capable of doing anything with your life, city girl or not. I know I could make a relationship with you work - _I would do whatever it took _- but the sad truth is you _are_ right... I _do_ have to leave for Africa tomorrow." I smiled, though there was a stone lodged somewhere near the top of my stomach. This felt like a big mistake, but it was her choice to walk out - not mine. "You are brilliant, Deni."

She smiled back at me and, if I was reading her right, it was tinged with sadness. "Bye, Harry."

_Goodbye, Deni._

She shut the door and silence reigned once more in my exquisite hotel room. I stared at the space she had just vacated for a few more minutes before I slowly slid back down into bed, sighing and covering my face with a pillow. My bones ached, my back was bruised, and now my heart was broken.

I was off to a good start so far.

* * *

The Portkey deposited me on my arse in the middle of a puddle of thick mud.

I snorted in resignation, more amused by the wet clay soaking into my shoes than angry. I should have known that Delphi would give me a Portkey that left me covered in _shit. _It was very hot, more so than Greece, so I immediately felt beads of sweat soaking through my shirt as well. A mosquito latched onto me arm the moment I landed, and I swept him away with an annoyed grunt.

A cursory glance around me revealed I had made it successfully to Africa, though I had no idea where I was or what the village I was in was called. I found myself on a deserted street, perhaps owing to the rain that was steadily drizzingly over my shaved head. The few people that were out and about quickly moved towards shelter and I decided I'd join them a moment later when lightning crackled sharply above me followed by a loud boom of thunder.

I broke into a slight run as it began pouring even harder, and I didn't stop until I reached cover, which just so happened to be a flimsy canopy outside of the town's vegetable market. I noticed a woman standing very still as I approached, and for one brief moment she caught my eye, jerking her head subtly towards an alleyway between two brick buildings. I knew that this couldn't be a coincidence, so I smiled and moved to join her. However, she remained stony-faced and swirled a cloak around her shoulders, stepping back into the rain and out of my view.

_Oh, Merlin_. Not another pretty face with attitude problems.

I rushed to follow, wishing that I had a cloak of my own, as the wind and rain hit me in the face and on my exposed arms. The dark-skinned woman swiftly made her way to the alley, and without even a glance in my direction she turned the corner, disappearing once again from my view. I hurried to catch her, my trainers slapping against the wet mud and leaving my jeans caked in the foul _shit._

As I entered the alley I felt a ward of some sort smack against my back, and I immediately placed a hand on my wand. I was virtually consumed by my paranoia since the episode two days previous, and I was certainly taking no risks now. In fact, I had decided not to leave the room after Deni retreated, and I had spent the rest of my time in Greece staring forlornly out the window or clicking the remote control on the TV, watching an unfamiliar but suddenly important cartoon about a long-eared gray bunny and a duck named Daffy...

I walked for another minute, my eyes locked on the feminine form in front of me, before she stopped and turned towards me. She beckoned me to her with her right hand, and I complied, stopping in front of her and giving her an expectant look. She removed her hood, which had been concealing her face.

"You can use Drying and Warming charms here, if you'd like," she whispered. Her voice was distinctly African, as was her face, and I was reminded slightly of Angelina Johnson, my former Quidditch captain at Hogwarts. She looked like she was in her late-twenties, her skin color most closely resembled caramel, and with the exception of a slightly cleft upper lip, her face was flawless. Rather than detract from her beauty, the defect enhanced what was already there.

I caught myself staring and averted my eyes, deciding to do exactly as she had said. Once my spellwork had taken effect, leaving me warm and dry, I added a spell that would keep the worst of the rain away from me. I smiled, and told her thanks, to which she merely nodded and turned away. It seemed that she was in a hurry to get somewhere, most likely the base, so I decided to hold back on the hundreds of questions running through my head... for _now_.

"Follow me," she said quickly, replacing the hood over her features. She paused to survey me from underneath her hood, her eyes dark and mysterious. "Stay close."

We set off towards our destination, and during the journey I had my first glimpse of the scenery surrounding the village and its people. It was strange for me to see... well, _everything_, as I had never been in such a remote part of the world and honestly didn't know what to expect.

There were huts made of wood and straw intermingled with discarded motorcycles and scooters, and the majority of the buildings were dilapidated, some looking like they had been destroyed by war or neglected to the point of being sucked up by the ground and the jungle. Despite this, the trees dotting the countryside were especially beautiful, and I spent most of our long, wet trip admiring them, though I wasn't sure if it was the beauty of the jungle or the repugnant nature of the terrible homes the people were forced to live in that kept my eyes constantly coming back to the trees. Of course, the clouds above us were dark and lethal looking, but it was early enough in the day that I had no problems seeing for hundreds of meters in either direction.

From time to time, men and women carrying clay pots crossed our path, ignoring my guide but paying close attention to me. I assumed it was because I was caucasian, but it occured to me that it could have been as a result of the rain swerving strangely just before it reached my head. I mentally shrugged, deciding that I would rather keep myself from catching the flu, or the West Nile virus, or _whatever_, than soothe the minds of people I would never come into contact with again.

I noticed that there were no automobiles, though many men and some women pushed bicycles carrying blankets, on which lay tradeable goods varying from bananas to firewood, probably taking them to the market to sale. It would be near impossible to ride the bikes in this weather, especially with the roads so muddy, but I suppose they had to deal with the difficult terrain and climate on a daily basis and were used to it. My companion did not turn to look at me, instead focusing on swiftly reaching our destination, wherever it was.

After ten or twenty minutes of walking we reached a sharp turn in the road, and though I started to follow it towards my left, the woman halted. I stopped, looking at her confusedly, before she removed a wand from her coat pocket and waved it at a particularly large tree to our right. Despite having lived in the magical world for eleven years, I nearly jumped back in shock when the tree and surrounding ruffiage were sucked into the ground in seconds. The woman looked at me with the barest hint of a grin on her face and took two steps towards the hole in the ground, allowing the swirling sand in front of us to grip her feet.

My heart started to pump overtime as I saw the woman consumed by the ground, and I instinctively reached an arm out to help her, though she did not scream nor even look afraid. Once her head had disappeared from sight, I looked around warily and put one foot lightly on the sand, making a face as miserable as when Deni had left the day before. Sighing in resignation, I decided to just go for it, trusting that the woman wouldn't simply offer herself up to be eaten by nature. I closed my eyes and kept them shut as I jumped, and I could immediately feel the strong grip of the sand taking me down harshly. I had to actively try to keep myself from fighting its unstoppable pull, and when the sand reached my head I had to clamp my mouth shut in order to keep a scream from jumping out of my throat.

Fortunately, I merely floated down to the ground and landed on my feet. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find the woman outright laughing at me, and I gave her an angry glare which just caused her to laugh louder.

"You should have seen your face!" she said through her guffaws. "Harry Potter can stand up to the Dark Lord, but put him in the jungle and he gets shaky as a leaf." I continued glaring at her as she slowly regained control of herself, the laughter leaving her face though it remained in her dark brown eyes.

"Thanks for that," I said sarcastically, still a little annoyed at her. "You could have prepared me for the damn thing, then maybe I wouldn't have been scared."

Again she laughed, though it was quite a bit quieter now that we had both settled down. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, you're going to be dealing with things that are a lot more surprising than that over the next few weeks. Consider it a practical lesson if you must."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever," I said, still a little freaked out by the whole thing and lacking a suitably sharp response to end her teasing. Deciding to get to the point I asked, "Where are we?"

My eyes couldn't make out much in the tunnel that we were standing in, as they hadn't adjusted to the lack of light. Up ahead I could see blurry objects lining the walls, and I assumed they were torches meant to guide our descent downward. The woman shook her head and turned a bit more business-like, which suited me just fine.

"Do you want the long answer or the short one? I'm sure Delphi will explain everything once we're all together."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere else, so you might as well start on the long one."

"Sure," she said in a clipped tone, turning away and lighting up her wand with a whispered _Lumos. _"The village that you Portkeyed to is known as Faradje, a part of the Republic of Congo near the eastern border with Uganda and the northern border with the Sudan. I'm sure Delphi would have let you Portkey _here_, but everything is warded so tightly it would take anywhere from fifty to seventy-five witches and wizards to tear them down."

This was understandable, given the need for security here, so I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"We call this cave system Lukeni's Maze. Delphi told you the story of the horcruxes, right?" Again, I nodded, and she kept talking. She set off in the direction of the torches, so I followed her, certainly unwilling to be left alone in the dark tunnel without a guide. "Well, we're pretty sure that Lukeni made these tunnels so that he could easily walk down to the temple without anyone ever getting wind of it. There's no telling how long it took him to carve these out of stone, especially with a staff, but we think that he started them well before his father ever passed. He probably didn't intend to place the horcruxes here, and we're not sure what the original purpose of the temple was, but nevertheless, we know that they weren't here before Lukeni created them."

As we walked, I noticed all manner of insects and spiders hanging from the cave walls, and their shadows were dark and dangerous looking. The place was enough to cause anyone to shiver, but I tried to focus on what the woman was telling me instead of jumping at everything that moved in the darkness.

It occured to me that conversation with the woman would be tremendously easier if I at least knew her name. When I asked, she snorted, catching me a bit off-guard. "Abebi Radwan... but everyone that knows me calls me Bebi."

That was a little too close to Deni for my comfort, but I decided not to mention it, instead offering my hand for her to shake. "Harry Potter," I introduced myself, though she had already used my name earlier. When she didn't shake my hand, as she was too busy guiding us through a particularly narrow passage in the tunnel, I slowly retracted it, feeling rather foolish.

I didn't speak again until we reached a large clearing in the mass of rock; looking down, I could spot indefinite darkness below me, and I was absolutely certain that any step off the beaten path would leave me flailing my arms as I fell to my death. Though I tried not to sound like a petrified little boy, my voice came out rather high-pitched, and it echoed off the ceiling and walls as if a hundred people were speaking all at once.

"So, Bebi... what's your story? How did you end up here of all places?"

She stopped suddenly, and I noticed her mouth open momentarily before she bit back what I assumed was a sharp retort. It seemed to me that Abebi was easily addled when she was trying to focus, but then again, it could have been that she was as scared as I was in the dark, spider-infested tunnels.

"I'm actually Nigerian, though I went to school in the United States and did a couple of small jobs before I came to the Congo... Mexico, Belize, South Africa... mostly for dirt pay and at a major risk to myself, but that's how you get started in this line of work."

"This line of work?"

"Tomb-raiding, spelunking, searching ruined temples for horcruxes, that kind of thing. It tends to look good on a Curse Breaker's resume, though the highest paid mostly work in nice cushy offices for places like Gringotts and Havergnells, and have the artifacts delivered to them by peons like... well, kind of like us, I guess..."

I had never heard of Havergnells, but I figured it was the American equivalent of Gringotts, though I couldn't be sure whether goblins ran the place or not. Her mention of Curse Breaking had reminded me of Bill, who had been working at Gringotts for the past few years. He and Fleur would be coming up on their fourth anniversary, and when I visited their home I was always astounded by how meticulously decorated and curiously lavish it was. Most of the Weasleys were lower to middle class; Bill, on the other hand, certainly wasn't a stranger to luxury these days. Of course, Fleur's family was filthy rich as well, so I'd imagine at least some of that money came from them.

"What about Delphi? How did you meet him?" This was what I really wanted to know, and she gave me a side-long glance after I asked, as if she was judging whether or not I was reliable enough to know that information. It ended up taking her more than a few moments to arrange her thoughts.

"I didn't meet Delphi until the night before I left. Of course, we corresponded beforehand, and I had already accepted the invitation to come out here, but I had never seen him in person. I was at home, packing my things and getting ready to spend a lot of time overseas, when he interrupted me by knocking on my door. I made us both a cup of coffee and he explained the significance of this _quest_ we're on."

Somehow, perhaps because she had thought so hard and yet answered so quickly, I didn't believe Abebi. She seemed like a nice person, and I found her likeable enough, but the story was too simple to me. Delphi had bought me a remarkably expensive hotel room to commemorate the event, and yet he had merely popped up on her doorstep and shared some coffee? I promised myself I wouldn't immediately accuse her of anything, and that I'd ask questions of the other people here once I met them to determine if her tale was singularly suspicious or if everyone had been simply hanging outwhen Delphi popped up. It wouldn't surprise me if he only went to great lengths to get me here considering my notoriety, but for whatever reason, I didn't think this was the case.

Regardless, I dropped the subject for now, preferring to find out what type of magic she was known for, as I suspected everyone would at least be talented with _something_. I pressed her for information, and after climbing an inclined stretch of the tunnel, she spoke as I paused to catch my breath.

"I'm good at both Warding and Ward-Breaking, and I'm no slouch when it comes to a fight," she said, breathing less heavily than I was, as I had never been in a tunnel like this before and was having a rather rough go of it. She continued, ignoring the fact that I had my hands on my knees and was seriously considering retching. "But I think the real reason Delphi wanted me on the job was my familiarity with Africa, because he's sent me to retrieve almost everyone from Faradje." She shrugged. "Where some people would be annoyed because they were singled out for their skin color, I actually understand; most people on the roads wouldn't even blink at me, as long as I kept my head covered and hurried along, and all the new people coming in and out tend to make things _very suspicious_, y'know?"

I nodded, having surmised as much earlier in the trip when everyone we ran into looked at me funny. "How many people are here, do you think?"

She shrugged non-chalantly, and though she held a lit wand in her hand, I could barely make out her shoulders moving through the darkness. I could have cast _Lumos _myself, but I decided keeping my wand in my hand and being prepared for anything was a much better, safer idea. "I'd say twenty or so, counting Delphi and a few of his associates who probably won't be..." she paused, perhaps looking for the right words. She looked back at me with a smile, adding, "_Getting their hands dirty_. We're supposed to get started early tomorrow, so there _could_ be more people coming in by then, but I doubt it."

"Anybody I should watch out for, ya think? You know, big, brutish, destined-to-make-trouble-for-me types?"

She laughed, tapping her index finger on her lips. "My lips are sealed," she said, before reconsidering. "However, I will go ahead and tell you that there are a whole team of mercenaries down there, and they probably won't take shit from anybody, so it would be best if you tread carefully around them. You'll know who they are by the red patch on their robes. They get sent in to do... _extermination _if goblins, or anything else really, come too close to the people working on the horcruxes."

So, I needed to worry about Delphi, goblins, spiders, horcruxes, and now mercenaries attacking me for any perceived offense. That's not to mention the dark tunnel, which conveniently bended to the right, causing me to smack against the outcropping of rock with my left shoulder and forearm. I cried out in pain and surprise, but Abebi didn't even bother herself to turn around, merely chuckling under her breath and saying, "The trail turns right here."

This time I didn't complain and risk drawing further embarrassment from the crafty Nigerian girl. Instead, I flipped her my middle finger behind her back and mocked her, repeating the words she had just said angrily under my breath.

"I heard that," she said, merely laughing even louder, the noise rebounding off of the tunnel walls.

We were coming into a part of the tunnel that had a few scant beams of sunlight coming down from the ceiling, and I was thankful not to have to squint for once. Abebi extinguished her light and lowered her wand, though I noticed she held it tightly by her side, just in case. I could also see a waterfall through the dim light, and hear its relentless roar as well. The stones lining the wall left the water a cerulean blue, strangely aglow in the cavern. It was...

"Beautiful," I said, not realizing I had spoken aloud until Abebi agreed with me.

"Yes, it is..." she murmured, though she didn't seem as awed by the sight as I was. Perhaps she had grown used to the majesty of it now that she had been to this spot in the tunnel so many times. "The Dungu River runs through the cave here, and the diamonds in the wall of the cave being hit with the sunlight cause it to look like that." She sighed, turning her head away from the waterfall. "It is easily the most beautiful sight I've seen since I've been here."

I nodded, still a little distracted by the blue light shining maddeningly through the torrent of water. Far below us, I could hear the water crushing against the riverbed, and it made me wonder just how far down the river really was. It occured to me that this place would have been here thousands, if not millions of years before Lukeni stepped in and turned it into a meandering underground trail, and I was certain it would remain long after everyone I knew had died. I was also overcome with the feeling that, despite the waterfall's temptuous beauty, it was just as deadly as anything else in this God-forsaken cave.

Turning my eyes away, I forced myself to continue forward, hurrying to catch up to Abebi, who had merely stopped for a moment to watch the water. The tunnel had opened up significantly now, and I could see moss and vines replacing the spiderwebs, as if we were coming closer to the jungle. I assumed the trail wouldn't be much longer.

Abebi confirmed my assumption a moment later. "We're almost there," she said, and I felt my heart clench. I wasn't afraid, per se, but the knowledge that I would be exposing myself to a whole new world of trouble wasn't sitting well in my stomach after a thirty minute walk through the rain followed by twenty more minutes in darkness.

Lukeni's Maze had posed little threat to me with a guide, but I was worried nonetheless; if I had to leave quickly, for any reason, I would definitely be lost, and I had seen paths branching off in many different directions on the way here. I assumed it would be the same for any of the other wizards and witches present, and if anything strange were to happen, we'd essentially be lost unless Abebi was with us.

I mentally shrugged. I definitely knew one person I was going to get close to in the Congo, if only to suit my own purposes.

I just hoped she wasn't planning on doing the same.

* * *

_-End of Chapter Four_


	5. Chapter Five: Arachnophobia

** Chapter Five: Arachnophobia**

I entered the camp laughing, still carrying on a rather long conversation with my lovely guide, who seemed to be warming to me the longer we talked. She revealed she had a boyfriend of two years back in the States, as well as a little girl who had just turned five, and by her own admission, Abebi had cried her eyes out when she had to leave. I took it upon myself to reveal some personal information as well, letting her know that I was currently single and looking to stay that way, and had only left two best friends at home rather than any family whatsoever.

After that, Abebi turned to me with her eyes full of water, and remarked that she couldn't imagine a life without her family... which had brought on quite a bit of sudden sniffling from her, leaving me awkwardly shuffling my feet along a hundred meters or so of the trail. Fortunately, she let up not long after, and returned to her normal, jovial personality.

Apparently, Abebi was a bit of a homebody, despite travelling the world over and over. I sensed that she thoroughly regretted leaving her daughter at home, but I still had to wonder how much of the truth she was giving me and how much was fabricated on the spot. Perhaps the money she was making by being here for a few months was important enough that she _had _to leave her daughter behind. I felt like prying for that particular information would just make the both of us uncomfortable (and in her case, there was a possibility she could be angry) so I let sleeping dogs lie and decided I'd just keep an ear out for any mention of her daughter or her life in the US.

Though I had recovered from the hour long walk and the paranoia of being in a dark tunnel, inwardly I was fuming as I stood at the entrance to my new living quarters. From the look of it, our home base was merely a rock shelter, and our beds were cots that held sleeping bags. Perhaps this was another joke being played on us by Delphi; in fact, I couldn't help feeling like the three days I spent in the lap of luxury were meant to make me caught off-guard when we hit the base. I could have whined about it, I suppose, or easily Transfigured a four-poster, but if everyone else was sleeping on the cots, I'd look like a supreme jackass sleeping on a King-sized mattress.

It also bothered me that there were sharp, jagged rocks that looked like they could fall on us with a simple _Reducto_. They were beautiful, sure, but it was just another reminder that we were in the midst of a incredibly deadly cave. As Abebi and I approached the shelter, I could plainly see that I wasn't the only one peeved by our tawdry living quarters.

"This is _fucking _ridiculous," a woman was saying, staring up at the vast array of stalactites hanging precariously above us. "I don't care how much we're getting paid to be here, I didn't sign up for _this_!"

There were some grumbles of agreement, especially from the three other women standing near her, but it was apparent that one man in particular disagreed with her; then again, the haggard-looking man had a fierce, dangerous scowl on his scarred face and seemed _extremely _disagreeable by nature. As he stepped into view, coming rather close to the petite woman, I could see that he easily dwarved her in size and stature. The scar on his face, a red patch of skin over his eyebrow, was obviously Dark Arts-related, judging by the vibrantly purple discoloration and the sickly, eaten-away look of his left eyelid. The red badge on his chest also showed me that he was one of the mercenaries Abebi had spoken of. It looked to me as if the man was on the verge of causing a scene, so I smoothly stepped forward to defend the woman if he bullied her.

"And what _did_ you sign up for, _Healer_?" He uttered the word as if it was a curse, obviously intent on demeaning the woman. "Are you going to _cry _about everything that happens-"

She jumped back in shock, her annoyed look disappearing, replaced by one of fear and disgust. She opened her mouth, but for a moment her bottom lip just hung there, as if she had no way of processing how intensely angry that man seemed at her. She floundered, and I saw one of the other healers go for their wand-

"I have to agree with you," I said, ignoring the man completely and drawing a few curious looks because of it. I was well-practiced at this kind of thing, honestly, so I didn't even bat an eyelash at the gasp of recognition coming from one of the three other girls. "I don't like the thought of sleeping underneath _that_, knowing that the simplest offensive spell could send a ton of rock falling on us. But I guess this is all we have," I said, shrugging non-chalantly. "We'd better make do."

There was a pause while the girl considered my words and I considered the girl. She was shorter than me by a head, wearing light blue robes that were tight across the waist, and tied by a thin, velvet belt that strongly reminded me of the lines at a Muggle theatre. She also wore a cap on her short, dark brown hair and on her hip there was a small pouch, which I imagined was magically enlarged and carried a multitude of potions rather than anything for her own personal use. She was quite obviously a healer, and the women who had agreed with her furious statement regarding the rock above us were most likely her subordinates. She still looked relatively young, however, and gazed at me with undisguised glee, causing me to inwardly groan.

"You're _Harry Potter_!"

The group suddenly closed in on us, surrounding myself, the healer and Abebi, who was trying to hide her amused grin. To my own credit, I did not falter under the intense scrutiny, merely gracing the woman with a tight smile.

"I am," I said shortly. Her eyes rose to my scar, and then back down to my lips, which caught me slightly off-guard. Was this older woman checking me out? And was I enjoying it a little bit? "What's your name?" I said, trying to shed some of the spotlight.

She paused momentarily, as if she hadn't expected I would ask, and then blurted, "Maribelle Lewis! Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter." She even rushed to shake my hand, which sent Abebi into a sudden coughing fit.

"Please... you can call me Harry. Nice to meet you as well, Healer Lewis." I turned to her companions, greeting them all in turn, and the majority of us spent a few minutes sharing names. I noticed that the man with the red badge had sunken back into the shadows, and though I could not tell where he had escaped to, I assumed he would make his way back to me in due course, as the best villains always seemed to do.

I wasn't looking forward to it, as I had a distinct feeling he would be out for my blood after I cut him off so swiftly.

"Well then, Harry," she said, gracing me with a rather attractive smile. The others around us were mingling, talking quietly, leaving the two of us in a position where she could speak to me without fear of others listening in. "If I get to call you by your first name, then you can call me Maribelle."

I decided to capitalize on the opportunity to get to know another one of my team members; just for the record, it had nothing to do with her bright blue eyes or the way she pouted her lips when she said Maribelle. I considered asking her where she was from, but I assumed from her light accent that she was from the southern part of the United States.

Instead, I decided I would show some bravado.

Coming rather close to Maribelle, I whispered, "Listen. If you have any trouble with guys like _that_," I said, jerking my thumb back in the direction the dickhead mercenary had run off in, "you don't hesitate to come and find me. Okay?"

She nodded her head solemnly, apparently taking my words to heart. "You got it," she whispered, placing a hand on my chest; the pace of my heartbeat quickened momentarily, and I unconsciously moved even closer to the woman. "And if you need anything... _anything at all_... you don't hesitate to come to me." She giggled, as I had just stepped even closer to her. "Not now, Harry... I mean, you know, if you get hurt or whatever."

I forced myself to take a step back, and I nodded shortly. Before I parted I cheekily said, "I'm sure I will be in capable hands." I looked at Abebi, who seemed to be getting a little impatient. "I will see you later, Maribelle."

"I'm sure you will."

Eventually, and quite against my hormones, I walked away from the healers to find a cot that was unoccupied. Abebi followed me, the smirk still plain on her dark face. "Didn't I tell you not to cross the guys with the red badges? That wasn't reverse psychology, you know?"

"Well, it was that or listen to the entire group argue over our admittedly shitty living situation. He was about to lay into her for no reason. Besides, I can protect myself better than she can; I've stood up to bigger and badder and walked away without a scratch..." I lowered my voice, which probably betrayed my next statement. "I'm not afraid of those idiots. My cousin was a better bully back in grade school."

I glanced at the group of mercenaries, who had chosen to sleep near each other and were sharing the same pissed off looks. I caught an older gentleman's eye, and after he just about snarled at me, I was immediately certain that they all recognized me. I briefly wondered if any of them shared the same view of the wizarding world that Voldemort did, but decided I should give them the benefit of the doubt; just because they probably wanted me dead, didn't mean they were pregidous too.

Abebi interrupted my thoughts, and I gave her my full attention. "And what was that with the Healer? I don't think there will be enough room for both of you to sleep in her cot."

I rolled my eyes, pushing her shoulder lightly in retaliation. "Jealous? I'm sure we could enlarge the cot to fit you in as well."

"Please," she said, scrunching up her face as if I was repulsive, which, all things considered, was probably a fair estimation. "As if I would ever stoop that low." She turned away then, her long black hair hiding most of her face, though I could still see the corner of her mouth where she was trying to hold back her customary smirk. "Besides, Maribelle just isn't my type."

I laughed, starting to really like Abebi. She had a wicked sense of humor, and when she wasn't entirely focused on her duties, she was very easy to get along with. Though we had just met, I could easily see us becoming great friends while we were in the Congo.

"Pity, that," I said, looking for a place to set up house. "Where's your bed at, Bebi?"

She looked at me a little strangely at the casual use of her name, but she didn't mention it. Instead, she pointed towards the right, fifteen or twenty meters away from us, where a particularly well-made sleeping bag was empty. From a distance I could also make out a photo of a little girl with a whole lot of brown hair.

"Well, I might as well sleep near someone I can trust," I mumbled, just loud enough for Abebi to hear. I added, "I guess I'll take the one nearest the rock; that way I have an escape route to the left, nobody on my right, and you'll be at my back." I shrugged, heading over in that direction. "I'll be safe here... unless the damn rock collapses."

"Are you always this paranoid or are you just playing it up for my benefit?"

"I'm always this paranoid. It's part and parcel of being a Dark Lord magnet; my friends just have to deal with it."

"Must not have many friends then," she quipped, smiling toothily. "In all seriousness, it's understandable, Harry. Considering what you've been through, I would probably react the same way. I'll watch your back; I know some people will probably give you a hard time, but they'll most likely overlook me." Her smile became more predatory. "I kind of hope they do make trouble for you, honestly. I have a really good Entrail-Expelling curse I've been _dying _to use."

"Well, I doubt anyone could _stomach _one of those. Let us hope it doesn't come to that, hmm?"

She nodded, her face relaxing, and her happy-go-lucky demeanor returning. "Well, I'll see you in a little bit. Dinner is in a couple hours, so don't go wandering off." Then she chuckled, shaking her head. "And since I know you will go wandering off, at least take someone with you." She nodded in the direction of Maribelle, who was headed towards us and looking intently at me. Maribelle smiled when I met her gaze, and though I faltered at first, I returned her smile a moment later. Abebi just laughed.

"Yes ma'am," I intoned, waving her away. "But only because you asked me to."

I could almost hear her roll her eyes. "Yeah, right," she drawled. "Next thing you'll be telling me you only fucked her because I said it was okay."

I grinned. "Is it okay?"

She huffed, though I could tell she was more amused than anything else. "You tell me! I'd imagine a Healer knows a good enough Contraceptive spell. Just don't over-do it, _lover Boy-Who-Lived_."

I opened my mouth to say something, but she was far enough away that my reply would have embarrassed me with so many people around. Instead, I mentally shrugged, sitting down on my cot for the first time. Maribelle joined me a moment later, tugging on my arm and asking me if I'd like to take a walk.

Nothing wrong with a little wandering, right?

* * *

I kept Abebi's warning in the back of my mind as Maribelle and I slowly walked out of the camp, so I insisted that we only go part of the way back down the tunnel. It just would not be any kind of intelligent for me to risk getting lost, but I knew enough to guide us back to the waterfall, where Abebi and I had paused to survey the glimmering diamonds earlier. Though she had already been this way herself, Maribelle agreed that the place was remarkably beautiful, and definitely worth visiting more than once.

When the waterfall came into view, Maribelle _awwed_ appropriately, her face lighting up in the blue-tinged darkness. It occurred to me that, while she probably couldn't contend with Deni in the looks department, having Maribelle hanging on my arm was certainly nothing to be ashamed of; in fact, if the boys I roomed with at Hogwarts could see who and what I'd done this week, they would probably be spitting nails. She leaned her head down and put it on my shoulder as we walked, and over the top of her I made a face, wondering just how far the overtly-physical girl was going to take this in the span of an hour.

I was up for it if Maribelle was, but a part of me still felt guilty about getting ass thrown at me just because I was Harry Potter. Deni had been much of the same, though I hoped she had really liked me outside of who I was, but I couldn't help wondering if anyone would ever see through my name to the _real_ me. It was too tough for me to figure out when people were being themselves or if they were acting a certain way to catch my attention. It didn't make it easier on me when they were all so damned attractive either.

After we had stood there for a few moments, Maribelle removed her head from my shoulder and turned to face me, taking a step away from me so that she could see me better. "I hope you didn't mind… you know, the _closeness_ or whatever." I shook my head, playing it off as if it was no problem, though I well and truly had been confused as to why she did it. "It's just that _this_," she said, pointing at the waterfall with a long, manicured hand, "is the most romantic place I've ever seen. It feels… almost _wrong _not to share it with someone… _special_."

_Wow._ That answered a lot of my questions.

I didn't say anything at first, so she must have felt that she needed to clarify. "I mean, I wouldn't normally just _act_ this way, but it has been a rough couple of days," she muttered, adding a sigh that described plainly how tired this trip had made her. "I mean, I flew overnight by broom from Toronto in the worst kind of cold imaginable, then I had to take a portkey from Detroit to New York, _then _all four of us took an international portkey here. All in twenty-four hours," she added, shaking her head. "I could use a hug I guess."

Taking the initiative, I crossed over to her with my arms out, and she slid into them happily enough. She even laughed, though by the way she sounded, I was afraid she might cry. "Thanks, Harry. You really _are _a good guy."

And how many times have I heard that from women in my life? I inwardly scoffed, though I just smiled at Maribelle. "Oh, I wouldn't say _that_," I joked, sliding a hand slowly down her lower back. "I can be a bad guy when it calls for it."

She chuckled, sliding her face into the crook of my neck where my shoulder met my throat. Surprising me, she nibbled at my adam's apple, sending tingles of pleasure and warmth up my back. Just as quickly, she took a step back and turned her eyes towards the water.

"I can only imagine," she mumbled. Louder, she said, "Can I be honest with you, Harry?"

I shrugged. "If the only alternative is being dishonest," I quipped, "then sure… lay it on me, Maribelle."

Again, she chuckled, finally looking brave enough to blurt out whatever it was she had to say. She took a deep breath, and then spoke very quickly. "I don't really know how to explain this without sounding like a complete lunatic, so bear with me… I'm twenty-six years old, which means I would have been five when you… y'know, defeated Voldemort the first time."

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

"My grandmother, before she passed, was a professor at a school in Toronto, but she grew up in England long before moving to Canada. Her parents had died by then, but she had aunts, uncles, and cousins, and she always kept track of our family _back home_, as she put it. I would go stay with her every summer for a few weeks... and she must have told me your story a hundred times."

"Don't get me wrong..." she said, perhaps noting the disinterested look on my face. "I was just a kid then, so I obviously didn't have any romantic notions of you and me, or anything like _that_. I'm not a _rabid fan_, like you're probably used to, though I must admit I read a few articles about you when you beat that dark wizard for good."

"I guess what I'm saying is... I was just interested in your story because I didn't know what magic _was_; my parents didn't believe in such things... they were Muggle bankers, so they wouldn't know a galleon if it struck them in the side of the head. Hearing my grandmother's stories ignited something in me, and I always _knew_ that they were true, even when my parents tried to dissuade me otherwise. My grandmother believed what she said, Harry, and I'd bet my life on it she was a witch and my parents never had a clue. They must not have had the _gift_, or she would have told them what she kept on telling me."

Her statement took me for a loop, as I'd half-expected this to be about her childhood infatuation with me, which was a subject Ginny had never been able to talk about without getting angry. Quite the contrary, Maribelle's memories of me were tied up in memories of her grandmother, who was her only link to her wizarding heritage. I smiled, an image of Maribelle as a five year old begging her grandmother to tell her my story again popping into my head.

"Do your parents know you're a witch?"

She shook her head. "As a Muggleborn in America, when you start showing serious signs of magic use, the government sends experts to come to you and your family and explain things. However, as I was already a teenager, I was deemed old enough to be spoken to on my own, with or without my parents' permission. I was given the choice to have the government agents drop the bomb, or explain things myself."

"As you might guess, I chose to explain it myself, and when it came time to do so, I couldn't go through with it. They were so _proud _of me, Harry, because I had high grades in school and I was prepping for college. So... I decided I didn't want to go to a magic school. When I went away to the university, I ordered a few _extra-curriculars_," she paused, using the first two fingers on both hands to mime quotation marks, "and I studied magic on my own time."

I smiled. "Did you stay in a dormitory?"

Maribelle looked questioningly at me. "Yes, I did. Why do you ask?"

"What did your roommate think about you reading spellbooks in your free time?"

She laughed, pulling a face afterward. "She was not impressed, as I recall. She spent a lot of time fawning over her boyfriend... some football player named... Brady? I forget. I can't even think of the girl's name right now, to be honest." She scrunched up her face, apparently thinking hard.

"Where did you go to college?"

"Michigan." She frowned. "Oh, well, I can't remember." Shrugging, she walked around me and further away from the edge. She continued walking, so she could get a better view of the waterfall, causing me to abruptly follow her to avoid getting left behind. "Anyway," she said, moving rather quickly, "I fell in love with magic, same as anyone else does, but I never really took the time to learn a lot of the basics... Defense stuff, I mean. But, being in college, I kind of applied what I learned in medical school to healing people..."

"Hence the healer get-up...

She smiled demurely, striking a pose suitable for a broadway stage... or a really nice whorehouse. The thought crossed my mind, and I had to admit it wasn't a terrible one.

"Oh, you like this?" she said, showing off by twirling her wand in her hand.

It was at that exact moment that I felt a shift in the atmosphere, and I had a premonition as sharp, distinct and clear as I'd ever had; I knew within a second that there was something very wrong about to happen.

"Maribelle, come here... right now." It was a command, the tone of my voice causing her to look up sharply. She could see the fear in my face, and slowly but surely her own face fell, and I could see the fear reflected in her eyes. She opened her mouth, perhaps to ask me what was wrong, but before she could speak it became very apparent.

Spiders, some the size of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts, were speedily crawling down the tunnel, and from where we stood at the edge of the tunnel closest to the waterfall, we were in some serious trouble if we didn't move. Worse than that, Maribelle had been turned toward me, and hadn't seen the spiders at all.

I jumped into action, running to her and sending a spell careening into the spiders. I didn't look to see if I had landed a mark, but I could hear the sizzle of flesh from some of the spiders, as well as a tremendous _whirr _that became louder than everything else in the cave.

An explosion rocked both us a moment later, though it was from my magic, and had merely been one of my Destruction curses finding a target. The spell was something I had picked up from Slughorn and ended up practicing for months just out of sheer boredom. Ron had found it particularly humorous, as we both liked to throw them at inanimate objects and watch them begin to crumble from the inside, but it was quite a bit bloodier when used on a living being the size of my foot. Three or four of them must have gone down under the curse, but I couldn't be sure, as I had literally no time to admire my handywork before I was running with my back turned to the spiders.

My feet slapped against the ground as I ran full speed to the healer, and I skidded to a halt abruptly when I reached her, almost slamming into Maribelle by accident. Instead, I simply grabbed her by the arm and jerked her the opposite way, scrambling to get her away from a spider that was preparing to strike. We took less than two steps before I was assaulted by one of the arachnids jumping and bringing its weight down on me. I rolled to the ground and came up with my wand tip blazing, and I sent a blast of fire in the spider's direction when it jumped again, dropping it to the ground in a suddenly spasming heap of burned flesh. I breathed heavily, surprised at how close I had been to the spider's long, sharp fangs, which were most likely appallingly poisonous.

Maribelle gasped, completely out of her league in a dangerous situation and showing signs of shock as well. Her legs wobbled as she ran, and she fell to the ground under her own weight. I snarled, sweat beading my brow as I sent a torrent of fire ripping through another one of the troublesome spiders. "You gotta get up," I yelled, a skillful silent cutting curse leaving my wand and cleaving two spiders into four pieces. "Please, Maribelle!"

The desperation in my voice must have struck a chord with Maribelle, as she staggered to her feet and resumed running, her face mingled with fear and determination. The spiders were coming even faster now, so I joined her, hurrying her along as we ran back towards the camp.

Too late, I realized that we weren't going to make it; the waterfall was to my right, the hole that Maribelle and I had crawled out of to get here was in front of us, and innumerable spiders were behind us, itching to sink their fangs into us. Maribelle didn't look like she could run much further before falling again, and I was winded from the recent surge of magic and from sprinting to Maribelle. The first tremors of fear were lambasting my heart, and yet I was resilient in the face of imminent death, deciding if I could at least save the healer, maybe she could save me.

"Run!" I shouted at Maribelle, who didn't bother to turn around in her haste to flee. As far as I was concerned, her leaving me for dead was the best thing she could have done, as any attempts to save me would have doomed both of us. The spiders circled me and pushed me towards the edge, where I could feel the cool trickle of water against my back from the onrushing water splashing against the rock and diamond. I tried not to look down, fully aware how awe-inspiringly, terrifyingly deep the cavern was.

As Maribelle left my vision, tucked safely away in the tunnel between the waterfall and camp, I cast a Blasting curse at the rock over the top of the exit, sending a ton of limestone crashing down on the entrance to the tunnel. The rock would hold, keeping the people inside the camp safe from the spiders, but the rock bridge I was standing on trembled under the added weight, sending myself and more than one spider sprawling ass over teakettle.

"Alright, damn you..." I murmured, not really sure if I was preparing myself or the spiders. "I've had enough of this. Time to take off the kid gloves..." I concentrated as best I could under the circumstances, and just when two of the spiders came close enough to me to leap on my exposed arms, I let the bright orange and red spell leave my wand, clothing the spiders closest to me in a cloak of fire. The flames, shaped like a glorious dragon's maw, opened wide to swallow a line of the filthy beasts, and their screeches sounded in my ears as I struggled to keep my focus and control over the magic.

I knew well enough that using _Fiendfyre _to save yourself was a double-sided sword; for every thing that you burned in an attempt to stave off death, the curse was going to try twice as hard to burn you in return. Thus the longer I held some vestige of control over the maelstrom of fire, the more difficult it became to maintain control, until I would either pass out from the strain, or cancel the spell. The fact that it was notoriously classified as Dark Magic, which did particularly harmful things to the caster's sanity, wasn't lost on me as I groaned under the effort.

_Fiendfyre_ was monumentally helpful in a pinch, however, granting me quite a bit of room between myself and the confused hoard of spiders. They were slowly giving up the fight, and regressing back down the tunnels to whatever God-awful locale they had originated from, but there were still a few hanging around to take a last gasp stab at me. I was forced to jump back when one particularly inventive spider tried stabbing through my trainers, and I nearly slipped over the edge in my attempt to evade it.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I was screaming, rolling to my right to avoid a tendril of flame, disguised as a serpent. Its illuminated face struck the ground next to me and then it coiled once more, preparing to assault me again. As I scrambled across the ground the flame continued to pour out of my wand, clouding the area with thick, black smoke and leaving me gasping for breath. I could feel the hair on my arms being singed clean off, but I forced myself to rise to my feet, before redoubling my efforts to end the _Fiendfyre _before it ended me.

I took a moment to glance at the scene of devastation around me, and found dozens of dead spiders lining the bridge, their brethren trying to climb over them in order to reach me and having only marginal success. All around me swirled bloodcurdling flames, but I realized I had just enough time to run for it. That realization was followed by one of terror, as I belatedly realized I had cut off my only path out of the cavern when I blocked the tunnel to the camp.

I would have chuckled at my cock-up if I could stop coughing long enough to breathe properly. I rolled on the ground again, finding the flames had become too much heat to deal with. Looking up, I could see the spiders finally retreating, and knowing that I had fried the majority of them into crispy spider-skins filled me with a small amount of pride, though I was seriously doubting my ability to survive this little adventure.

I imagined that Maribelle was running into camp right about now, screaming her head off that I was in trouble. There was a small chance she could reach me before I was baked by the uncontrollable _Fiendfyre_, but I doubted any wizard or witch would be able to react fast enough to get through the chunks of rock that quickly.

I crawled along the ground on my hands and knees, wheezing heavily and now unable to see through the blaze. A belated fire-freezing charm couldn't stop the worst of the effects, but it held long enough to keep me alive a few more precious seconds. I rolled over onto my back and stared at the stalactites hanging in the cave, suddenly looking more like blurry stars than rock formations. I wondered for a moment what the afterlife would be like, before remembering I had already seen it, and if I met Dumbledore at Kings' Cross station again, he probably wouldn't allow me to leave.

The brunt of the flames were attacking me now, starting to shred through my clothes and reach the unprotected skin underneath; I howled in pain, terrified at the way I was about to die, before I decided in my delirious state that the water to my left looked a lot cooler than the fire.

In less than three seconds I had rolled limply to the edge, and, making sure my wand was held firmly in my right hand, I hurled myself off the bridge. The fiery dragon followed me part of the way down before breaking off as it crashed against the waterfall. A moment later the torrent of water drenched me, and I screamed in elation or fear - it didn't matter which – as I fell inexorably downward. Thinking quickly, I did my best to wave my wand around me, _Arresto Momentum _echoing over and over in my head, which conveniently smashed into the edge of the cavern with a resounding _thwack _that left my vision a blank white, and the sound of the wind rushing in my ears replaced by stark silence.

* * *

When I returned to consciousness, I was lying face down, covered in dead moss and leaves and feeling worse than I could ever recall without the Cruciatus curse being involved. I was waist deep in the water, and as my senses returned to me I found that my left knee had taken the brunt of the fall… at least, it seemed that way based on the burning pain shooting from my knee up to my thigh. I tried to move my leg and had some success, though it took me a minute or two to get to my feet, as both limbs were tangled in underwater foliage almost as thick as the quicksand Abebi and I had jumped into earlier in the day.

I was surprised to find that it wasn't very dark in the lowest part of the cavern, as I could see that sunlight was still streaming from somewhere up above. I wondered how dark it would be once the sun went down, but I hoped I wouldn't have to experience it anytime soon. I had no idea how long I had been stuck down here – in fact, I might have been stranded long enough that it was the next morning – but I assumed only a few hours had passed since my fall. That meant I had, at the most, three or four more hours before night came, so I'd better get a move on if I didn't want to be stuck here with only my wand for a torch.

In addition to barely being able to walk, I could scarcely move my left arm, which seemed to be broken, or at the very least sprained bad enough I couldn't move it without significant pain. I groaned, wondering not for the first time how the hell I got myself into these types of situations. Wasn't this supposed to be my chance to get away from surprising, harrowing, near-death experiences?

In any case, lying there and moaning to myself about it wasn't going to do me any good, so I stiffly paddled my way over to the deeper water, which was swiftly moving away from the waterfall above. The river was moving fast enough that I figured I could be carried downstream in a matter of minutes, though it crossed my mind that there might be another waterfall at the end of it. Deciding to give it a shot anyway, as I really didn't feel like walking at this point, I transfigured a fallen tree branch into a wooden canoe that was just large enough to carry my weight in the water without bogging down. Testing it out, I gingerly lay on top of it, smiling as I noted it was sufficient.

"Here goes nothing," I murmured to myself. I used my right, uninjured leg to push off from the rock I had been standing on, bracing myself as the canoe teetered slightly in the water. Luckily, it remained afloat, and after a few moments I could relax slightly and at least _try _to enjoy the ride.

As I floated slowly downstream, I pulled my pants' leg up to examine the damage done to my knee. I gasped as I saw the bloody, swollen joint, where the skin on my kneecap had been scraped away enough to see just a bit of the cartiledge underneath. My head swam for a moment, but I held back the rising tide of nausea in my stomach and turned my watery eyes away from my knee. Painful as it was, I muttered a numbing charm Madame Pomfrey had taught me after a particularly rambunctious Quidditch game in my fifth year, sighing in relief as the worst of the pain tapered off, leaving me with a bruised, sore feeling rather than the sharp, nauseating pain from before.

I wasn't going anywhere else for a while, so I turned my attention to my surroundings, which, to me, looked surprisingly like the tube system in London. The cavern itself seemed to have been elongated over time, perhaps by the erosion from the river, and I spied spiders like the ones who had attacked me earlier lurking in holes and on webs tethered to the walls. Fortunately, they couldn't reach me as far as I was out in the water, and they paid me little mind as I floated forward. To keep them from noticing me, I scooted down in the canoe, making sure to keep the top of my head visible so I could see if anything dangerous was about to happen.

My mind was already thinking of ways that I could get out of this position, but, unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything worth the effort. I couldn't create a Portkey or Apparate back to Farandje, as the wards over this place probably wouldn't allow it, and I didn't know enough about the village to accurately visualize my destination anyway. Summoning my broom was probably out of the question, at least for the time being; all of my things were on my cot back at the camp, and I was pretty sure they couldn't move all that rock that quickly. If I hadn't been rescued by the next morning I'd give it a shot, I decided.

My best hope was to find some trail that led back into the tunnels, but so far that had been a bust; there were no obvious signs of the meandering trails, and I wasn't trusting myself against another hoard of spiders before I had a healer look at my knee. Fortunately, we were all scheduled to enter the temple for the first time in the morning, so if I could find any signs of the ruins I would be well-placed for a rescue.

Minutes passed, turning into nearly a half-hour. My impromptu canoe held up surprisingly well under the rumbling water and the various obstacles littering the riverbed. Once or twice I had to shift my weight to avoid a particularly jagged piece of rock blocking my descent, but for a while, things went more or less as smoothly as could be expected.

So smoothly, in fact, that I must have drifted off at some point. Blearily, I opened my eyes, and they nearly jumped out of their sockets at the horrible sight in front of me. My heart pounded in my chest and my breath caught in my throat, while I sunk even further into the canoe. Were my eyes betraying me in the dim light, or were there people on the shore?

I had gone unnoticed for the moment, so I made preparations to jump out of the canoe if I had to, sliding my leg into a position where I could easily bail into the water. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I kept saying under my breath, unsure how the hell I was going to get out of this alive.

There was a lit torch not far from me, blazing steadily, and as I peeked fearfully over the lip of the canoe I could make out the silhouette of one of the men on the shore... except, as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, it became readily apparent that it wasn't a man standing on the water's edge at all.

It was a goblin.

* * *

-_end of Chapter Five_


	6. Chapter Six: Goblin City

**A/N: **I made a few changes to Chapter Six since it was originally posted. I removed a few grammar mistakes, and improved the final scene of the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Goblin City**

The canoe continued merrily downstream, unaffected by the fact its single occupant was having a panic attack. It was only a matter of time before a goblin figured out that there was a bloody canoe making its way down the river, and it was pretty much a given that someone would come to inspect the boat eventually.

Searching my surroundings just left me squinting through the darkness, and I gave it up as a lost cause after my eyes started hurting. I could see enough to tell that there were more and more goblins appearing the further I travelled, and I knew the longer I sat here, the more likely I was going to die at the end of a goblin's blade. I racked my brain trying to think of something, anything, that could distract the goblins on the edge of the river long enough for me to escape into the water, but if I did get into the water, it was freezing cold, and my leg was hurt badly enough I couldn't put weight on it, my arm was broken, and if I wasn't mistaken, goblins could swim too!

I had to make a decision - stay, or jump overboard. I was obviously headed deeper into the camp the goblins were holding down underneath the temple, but it wasn't as if I could just head back up the river, as there was certainly no escape or refuge that way. I decided, quite against the probably more logical voice screaming in my head, that sitting still and seeing this trip out was the only thing I could reliably do. I hated it, but I had to trust my gut, and my numerous injuries thanked me for it.

Time crept by slowly... at least it damn sure felt like it. The canoe crept through the water and the only sound was my bated breath. Paranoia strikes deep in the heart of a man stuck in a tiny boat.

I waited. And waited.

Then the floor of the boat dropped out from beneath me, and I screamed like a frightened boy, having been caught totally and utterly unaware. I immediately slammed my mouth shut, but it was too late; I could already hear shouts in Gobbledegook, and though they were far away I only had maybe a minute before they found me... and if Delphi was right, these motherfucking goblins were going to eat me.

Pluck my eyes out, then eat me...

So, I scrambled in the floor of the boat, propping my legs against the sides and aiming my wand at myself. My injured leg throbbed painfully, but I felt I had no other choice; I bit my lip to keep from groaning, and tears came to my eyes under the strain, but through strength of will I remained perfectly silent as the goblin approached.

I took a few moments to compose myself; my heavy breathing, racing heart beat, and obvious fear were bound to get me killed - and not just by the goblins. I was well aware the magic I was about to try channeling was going to be limited at best, but I knew I could make it work, if only I had enough time to visualize what I wanted...

I closed my eyes.

If there was anything I had learned in my ten years of experience with magic, it was that you can cast a spell on instinct, not really knowing the right words, just wishing it with all of your might. So, as strange as it sounds, I put my wand in position and started wishing I was invisible, if only for a couple of moments. I held that belief, that I would look just like the inside of a canoe when the goblins looked in...

I did not lower my wand, because I could feel the magic taking effect. It was terrifying in its own right; I felt as if I was bathing in milk and honey, while holding a sledgehammer in my right fist. I gasped at how painful, how powerful the surge of energy coming from my wand was, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from yelling aloud.

The first goblin that peeked over the edge of the boat had the strangest-shaped head I had ever seen. His teeth glinted sharp and bright in his torch's light, and he growled when he found me. He said something in Gobbledegook that sent shivers down my spine, and I felt the boat immediately hoisted off of the ground, though I only rose a few feet before I was held steady, as if some of the other goblins had just picked me up over their heads.

I had no way to be really sure, but I thought I heard one of them complain about the weight of the canoe. Another voice, much louder and quite a bit more high-pitched, roared its indignant response and we started to move.

I relaxed my leg slightly, trying to shift my weight now that I wasn't under an immediate threat, but I kept my grip on the magic, just in case.

My heart was thumping as hard as ever, but after a few moments I realized that they had not seen me in the boat and were merely carrying me away. I released the hold over the magic, and when the connection broke I gasped in pain.

It felt like my fingers had been caught in a vice, and the longer I held a hold over the magic, the quicker the pressure on my hand built up... Luckily, I had let go of it when I had; otherwise I could have suffered terrible - even permanent - repercussions. Namely, my hand being warped into a knotted ball of bones and skin. Everything else had gone wrong up to this point, so permanent disfiguration probably wouldn't have even been a surprise, but still...

I didn't dare raise my head to try and look over the side as my canoe-turned-coffin was carried further into the goblin lair. I call it a lair, because nothing else could be as dreary and desolate as the tunnel we laboriously made our way through, weaving in and out the cave system so often that I was most certainly lost.

Bones hung from the ceiling in places, covered in cobwebs and all manner of filth I had no intention of touching, and I shuddered to think what happened to the poor sods who found themselves in this place. I could still hear running water despite being so deep in the cave, and I wondered if there wasn't some type of waterway still flowing through the area. Dust was heavy in the air now, though I couldn't tell whether it was from the goblins' footsteps or the steadily crumbling ceiling, so I covered my eyes, mouth and nose with my shirt, in order to prevent an allergic reaction that would give away my location.

Eventually, after quite a few painful bumps along the way, the canoe I was stuck in was thrown none too gently to the floor, and after a few moments, I opened my eyes to find myself in a nearly pitch-dark room. I had smacked my head heavily against the side of the canoe but, fortunately, the clatter from the fall had covered my grunt of pain. From the shadows on the walls I gathered that there were six goblins in the room with me; four that had carried the canoe, and two that stood off to the side, bickering at each other.

It would be awfully difficult to slip out of the room without them noticing, but perhaps I could use the close quarters to my favor and surprise them. I would have given half my vault at Gringotts for a Weasley Whizz-bang, but sadly, none were forthcoming. There were empty crates in the room that I could transfigure, but I'm sure the goblins would notice then, as the crates were the only things hiding me at the moment. Left with only my wand and the element of surprise, I figured I could do enough to at least scare the crap out of the goblins; after all, though they were menacing-looking, and some of them were carrying maces and swords, that didn't mean their intelligence was something to be feared. If I could do something to spook one, it would make handling the others that much easier...

As I contemplated my escape, the screechy-voiced goblin was ranting at the others, particularly one of them, as if he was berating him most of all for his incompetence. The other goblin, who I recognized as the one with the strangely shaped-head that had found me in the boat earlier, answered his superior with a deeper baritone that caught me be surprise. Was he defending himself, or was I just imagining things?

A moment later I heard a rough smack, and then my heart leapt as obvious sounds of a scuffle began; I took a glance over the edge of the boat to see the two goblins fighting while the others looked on. Strange-head was bashing Screech-voice with his staff, and though it looked like Screech-voice had started the fight, Strange-head was about to thoroughly end it.

Screech struggled against the barrage, still screaming at the other goblin, but his resistance was ultimately futile as Strange slammed the staff once more into Screech's exposed dome, spilling viscous blood onto the floor and causing his eyes to roll back into his dismantled head. It was frightening, watching Strange's yellow eyes gleam with blood-thirst, as he grabbed the fallen goblin's necklace of teeth and tied it around his own neck.

The other goblins were neither shocked nor amused by the bloody display; instead, they simply stood there, carefully eyeing the goblin standing over its kill, now eating Screech's mutilated brain in full view of everyone.

I cringed, though I couldn't turn my eyes away. Something significant had just taken place within this horrible goblin community, but this was my chance to act while the goblins were distracted. I grimaced; this was definitely going to hurt. As quietly as I could, I climbed out of the canoe, which had been discarded on the ground away from the fight, and I fell to the ground, hitting it with a sharp intake of breathe.

I had banged my knee in the process, as I had expected, but it didn't make it hurt any less. I shifted myself on the ground to look over at the goblins. Fortunately, they couldn't see me crawling over here, and hadn't heard any of the clamor, as the ferocious brain-eater and now leader roared in celebration.

First I took aim at Strange, who seemed pleased under the newfound attention he was being shown by the other goblins, and wasn't planning to give it up so easily. Strange strutted away from the dead goblin, but I kept my focus on Screech. With a whispered spell, I deftly reanimated the goblin, who popped up and slapped his murderer on the back congenially, causing Strange to jump back in horrified surprise. All of the goblins roared, some of them in shock and fright, and two of them even ran out the door. I nearly laughed at my luck; two goblins down, and I didn't have to hurt anyone but myself.

Strange roared, louder than before, and ripped the head off of Screech with a heavy-handed swing. Apparently, he wasn't taking any chances, as he tore the goblin to pieces in front of us, teeth and sharp fingers making easy work of Screech. The other goblins spoke to each other in furious tones, and I recognized that their voices were fearful, as if they didn't understand what had just happened and had no clue how to deal with it. I realized, with a grin, that they didn't know what magic was; however, my grin fell, when I saw Strange wave his staff around his head, creating blue mist that coalesced into a protective shield.

Angry now, knowing my position was given away, I waved my wand and sent the crates in front of me flying towards the other goblins. Three of them went down in a heap, though I yelled in frustration as the other remaining goblin escaped through the doorway, screaming to alert the others of my presence.

Strange made no move toward the exit, and wasted no more time protecting himself, pointing his staff at me, which lit up with an orange spell that did not look friendly in the slightest; I hurled myself to the ground regardless of my injured leg, crying out as I slammed into the ground behind an outcropping of rock.

Good thing I did too, as the cave wall next to me burst apart in flame, limestone rocketing off the wall and back at its caster, who merely stepped aside and deflected it with the broader part of his staff. The flames travelled along the side of the wall, but though this spell seemed similar to Fiendfyre in a lot of ways, it did not follow me when I regained my footing and stepped toward Strange.

He paused, only for a second, to look at my face. His eyes searched mine, and though I might have imagined it, it seemed like he recognized me. A further glance downward must have revealed my injured leg, as he smiled wickedly and pointed the other end of his staff at my knee.

"Tough to stand?" he said, in broken English. I gaped at him, and he laughed throatily, flashing his still-bloody teeth in the process. "What? Goblin speak when choose to." He seemed to rise to his full height in that moment; Uruk was two heads taller than me and I was stooped over, hobbled by my bum knee. He pressed me for answers, knowing he had the upper hand. "You, wizan, why are you here?"

It took me a few moments to get past the knowledge that the most dangerous goblin I had ever met was trying to hold a conversation with me in English, but I eventually responded in kind.

I dropped all pretenses and went for a truthful explanation, hoping the hulking goblin was feeling forgiving after murdering the king. "I fell into the river."

Strange nodded, though his staff was still pointed at me and seemed ready to release another spell if necessary. "I, uh... I was attacked by spiders," I added, miming a spider's walk with the fingers on both hands. "I fell into the waterfall."

"I hid in the boat because I was afraid, and hurt. My knee..." I pointed at my knee, which he had already noticed. "I can't walk very well. I never meant to come here, and I don't wish you any harm."

He waited for a few seconds, as if to see if I would continue speaking, and then he laughed sharply, smacking his staff against his other hand before turning it away from me. I sighed in relief, though my body was still tense, ready to defend myself if I had to. "Spiders bite," he said, before grunting in pain a few times in jest. "Hurts... poison."

I nodded fervently, still a little surprised to see that he understood me, and that I could get the gist of what he was saying. "Right! Spiders attacked me, and I fell into the waterfall..." I continued using gestures to get my point across, but I could tell Uruk was getting annoyed very quickly.

He took a minute to consider my message, looking a bit confused, as well as pissed off. "You not smart," he finally said, shaking his head roughly. "This is my burrow - not pitiful Akki." I followed his yellow eyes to the unmoving form of Screech, whose head was still leaking his own brains. The goblin smashed his open palm against his chest, and gruffly intoned, "Uruk's burrow now..."

I understood; his name was Uruk, and Akki had been the other, less fortunate goblin. Uruk spoke again, adding, "Akki chief. Now, Uruk chief. So... you not smart." He looked at me with mirth in his eyes, though that scared me more than growling and brain-eating, to be honest.

"I know. Believe me, I know. I did not mean to come here; it was an accident - a mistake. I did not mean to harm any goblins, or... Uruk. I am trying to reach the temple-"

Uruk slammed his staff on the ground so quickly I jumped back in response, before grimacing at the pain in my leg. Apparently Uruk had recognized the word temple. "No wizan go to temple! Temple is for goblins!"

Okay. I tried talking with the goblin, but they were notoriously troublesome to convince, and were typically well-versed in using words to their own advantage. Perhaps if this goblin couldn't see the truth behind my words, he could at least be persuaded not to immediately kill me.

"The temple has dark magic in it, Uruk. Black magic. Only a wizard - a wizan - can... kill it," I said, trying to use words that Uruk would be able to understand. I'm sure he was familiar with the idea of killing, if nothing else. "I just want to help. Help Uruk. Help goblins. Help wizards. Help me - Harry..."

"Help?" The goblin's lip curled, a mockery of a smile appearing on his strangely-shaped face. "I will never help you, wizan."

He chose that moment to swing his staff upward, and though I had remained vigilant through our entire conversation, I couldn't help but be surprised with the quickness behind his motions. I jumped backwards to avoid the jet of light, thick as the water from a fire hose, and I fell to the ground, unable to put much weight on my leg. The spell had grazed me slightly, and I could feel something shocking the nerves in my face, causing a twitch in my jaw. I set my mouth in grim determination and stood as quickly as I could.

The goblin used the same spell twice, and as I used my wand to levitate myself slightly out of the way, it occurred to me that Uruk must not know many incantations; if I could disarm him, this fight would be easily manageable, but first I had to get out of the way, as he shot the same spell a third time.

Taking a page out of Voldemort's book, I conjured a shield, and when the sparks flew at me again they reflected back at the goblin, taking him by surprise. The spell smashed into his foot, but somehow he remained standing, though he looked extremely angry now.

He stared at me, furious beyond belief, as if he was amazed a wizan could defend himself so well under such duress. I was actually a bit surprised I had been able to conjure that particular shield, having never used it in battle situation before, though I had run through the spell a few times at home. Feeling cheeky, I addressed the monstrous goblin, who was literally snarling at me.

"Tough to stand?" I asked innocently, throwing the words he had used back at him.

Uruk growled, his voice echoing in the goblins' cargo hold. Before he could react, I summoned the goblins' staff, laughing as his face turned comically afraid. He tried to grab it as it shot out of his hand, but it was too late; I grabbed the staff with my injured arm, grimacing slightly as its solid weight landed in my palm. Apparently this staff meant more to him than it did to me, as he howled in rage and charged me, his bulky weight slowing him down enough that I felt well prepared for his advance.

I summoned one of the larger boxes and quite literally slung it at the rushing goblin, who was caught in the chest and stopped, momentarily concussed by the force of the blow. I paused, thinking of something to do...

"STOP!" I yelled, noticing Uruk was getting ready to charge me again. "I don't want to fight!" The cavern echoed with my voice, loud and pleading. "I just want to find the temple!"

Fortunately, Uruk did pause, though he didn't look happy about it in the slightest. I decided the best way to reason with Uruk was to use the staff to my advantage, as he'd probably do just about anything to have it back.

"I will give you back this staff if you take me to the temple," I said, making as if to hand it over to Uruk, whose eyes immediately followed the staff. I slowly took a few steps toward him until I was just far enough to move if he decided he still wanted to rush me.

For a long time, Uruk said nothing. Then, he nodded once, turning to the door and opening it by slamming his big, green fist against it. It creaked open, and I saw goblins standing on the other side. Their eyes bulged as they turned to Uruk, and then to me, holding the staff. Uruk stopped them from entering and then looked me dead in the eyes.

"Come. I show you."

Uruk led me through the doorway, using his massive bulk to hide me from the majority of the goblins; despite his attempt, which I was certainly grateful for, it was impossible for him to mask his compatriots' angry, leering looks. Nevertheless, the goblins took the sight of Uruk, carrying Akki's dismembered head, as a sufficient enough reason not to confront him, and by relation, _me_. I must have seemed weak in their eyes... hobbling, holding the chief's staff, following the goblin with an awed look on my face.

Honestly, I didn't know what to say, think, or do; I was surrounded by so many teeth-gnashing goblins that I settled for meekly following the goblin who had just attempted to kill me. I kept a firm grip on his staff and my own wand, prepared to use either if necessary. A part of me wondered idly why Uruk didn't just turn, announce his exalted position as chief, and tell the rest of the goblins to rip me limb from limb, but perhaps things weren't that simple in the goblin kingdom.

A laughable image of Rufus Scrimgeour installed as minister of the goblins, chewing up the brains of recently-deceased ex-minister Cornelius Fudge, defended me from the dreary reality of the surreal tunnel. I took note of my surroundings as we walked, having been unable to make out the details of the dark cave from inside the canoe on the way in. The walls were marred with claw marks and gouges in the rock, where I imagined many a goblin pickaxe had been thrust when they were manually digging the tunnel. Every so often, we'd come across goblins feasting on raw antelope, and the stench from the intestines and blood was enough to make me nauseous. Each turn in the tunnel seemed to reveal something more gruesome than the last, and I desperately wished to be above ground for a change.

My leg throbbed more with each step, and now my arm was starting to burn under the injury and the weight of the staff. I itched to use magic on myself, but I didn't dare raise my wand with the crowd of angry goblins around me; knowing my luck, they'd immediately assume I was trying to fight, and there was no way I could defend myself against so many with no idea how to escape.

All in all, it wasn't the most pleasant stroll I've ever had; Uruk seemed unmoved by the other goblins crowding around us, though he did hold Akki's head a little higher when they circled us, but I was petrified of falling too far behind the chief and ending up an eyeless corpse, so I hurried as quickly as my injured leg would allow. Many of the goblins seemed especially interested in me, so I decided to mimic Uruk, and hoisted the staff over my head so that they could all see it plainly. A few of them growled in recognition when I passed, drawing closer to me, but one glimpse at Akki's dripping head and the staff in my hand, and they decided to keep their distance.

At length we reached an opening in the cave, and I sighed in relief, though the journey was far from over. In this part of the cavern, I could see the river below me, steadily flowing from the right, which I assumed led back to the waterfall, to the left, where many of the female goblins were congregating, washing clothing. They looked up as we approached, and one female in particular jumped up with a thrilled look on her face, rushing through the bubbling water to where we were just entering the cavern.

She screeched in Gobbledegook, her voice quite a bit lighter than Akki, and joined Uruk with a joyous smile on her small face. She did not seem to me as strange as the others, and though it pained me to say so, she was easily the most attractive goblin I had met. Her eyes glanced at me for a moment, but then her lips were devoured by her apparent husband, Uruk.

They spoke to each other in hushed tones, and the crowd that had followed us from the inner parts of the goblin lair had mostly dispersed, perhaps deciding that because I was being led away from the lair, I would no longer be worth their attention. A few stragglers remained, including one particularly stout goblin who kept giving me a confused look, as if he couldn't pinpoint how my arrival coincided with Akki's head being removed.

Honestly, I couldn't tell him how and why even if I spoke perfect Gobbledegook, so I did my best to ignore him and focus on Uruk, who had stopped kissing his wife and was now massaging her belly gently. Funnily enough, his ministrations reminded me of Ron and Hermione, who had probably argued every night this week in my absence. It occurred to me that Uruk's wife must be pregnant as well, and her excitement had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the head Uruk was holding.

In fact, Uruk kissed her once more and then handed said head over. She stared at it for a moment in shock, and then smiled toothily, walking away from Uruk and in the direction we had just came. I assumed she was going to take Akki's head somewhere for safe-keeping, though for all I knew she could have been preparing it for dinner. Uruk turned away from her, a tiny little smile on his brutish face, and began marching once more, this time headed toward a bridge that crossed the water the women were standing in.

"Come," he muttered in my direction, continuing forward without hesitation. I scrambled to follow him, mostly to get away from the other goblins, who had pressed rather close to me while Uruk was occupied. I glanced back at them to find them laughing at my expense, which suited me fine, as long as I was still alive to hear them.

The bridge looked like it was in disrepair, but it held our weight; the fall wouldn't have caused us much damage anyway, but it would have hurt me swimming across the river in my condition. As it was, I had to virtually leap across on one foot, so I used the ropes on each side of the bridge to help pull myself across. Reaching the other side only took a few minutes, but I was sweating profusely by the end, and I could feel my body beginning to shut down a little bit under all my exertions. I pushed through it as best I could, however, knowing that I was close to the temple now, and then I could rest.

A few more minutes passed, now climbing upwards down a narrow path that cut between the rocks, though the area above us was still open enough that I didn't feel as claustrophobic as in the tunnels. Uruk, hands free now that he had given his wife Akki's head, picked up a massive rock and moved it out of the way, dropping it off the unseen edge in front of us; I gulped as no noise was heard until a few seconds later, when it crashed against the ground far below. Uruk continued without looking back at me, for which I was grateful; I would have looked piteous with my face frozen in fear.

I slowly made my way across another rock bridge, which was slick from the water dripping from above us ever so often. Not wanting a repeat of the previous rock bridge, I stayed very close to the center of the bridge and did my best to stay balanced. Once or twice I skidded slightly, but I caught myself before I fell. Uruk's bigger, heavier feet had no trouble and traversed the rock bridge quickly enough that he had time to look back at me impatiently.

"Give me a break," I murmured under my breath. I pocketed my wand, as I had sweat in my eyes, and had to pause for a moment to defog my glasses. I wiped them down with my sleeve and replaced them on my nose with a weary sigh. A moment later my bad foot moved and I slipped, this time for real, and would have fallen head over heels off the edge of the bridge if not for Uruk reaching out and grabbing the staff, which I gripped firmly with both hands.

For a moment I looked up into the goblins' great yellow eyes. I didn't spare a breath to scream, instead using what forward motion I could find to push myself back onto the bridge, skidding to the ground in a heap. I locked my haunted eyes on the goblin, who was now holding the staff and had it pointed in my direction.

The goblin quite literally held my fate in his hands; he could banish me off the edge of bridge, as I couldn't move for my wand fast enough to defend myself, or he could spare my life, and lead me out of the cave to the temple.

Uruk did neither. "I have the staff, wizan, and you, your life. I say we are _even._" He bent down over me and helped me up from the ground with his long, broad arm, which I grasped with both hands. He pulled me to the opposite side of the bridge and let me free, laughing humorlessly as I skidded once more and fell on my arse. He pointed upwards with his staff. "The temple is up the path. Do _not _return to Bosoto. Wizan _not_ welcome."

That was plain enough, I suppose. I wanted to thank the goblin for all he done, but I didn't think he would care either way. Instead, I nodded solemnly and bowed in front of him, showing my deference to an admittedly powerful figure. "Uruk, I wish you well."

"I wish you _nothing_," he snapped, as if annoyed by my show of gratitude. He walked away from me then, his staff resting on his shoulder, and he did not spare me another glance. I watched him until he had disappeared from view, shaking my head wryly.

I had a feeling that Uruk was going to be one hell of a goblin chief.

* * *

The crumbling walls of the temple's outer shell met my glance as I finally lifted myself over the steep hill. I paused, breathing heavily and in dire need of a rest. A neighboring rock made a decent enough chair, for the moment, so I sat there, massaging my leg and more or less savoring the chance to _sit and do nothing. _I plucked my wand from my pocket and cast the same Numbing charm I had chosen earlier, sighing in relief as the pain deadened once again.

It had been one hell of a day, from a Greek hotel room to the town of Farandje, through Lukeni's Maze and down a waterfall, all the way to Bosoto, the Goblin City. Now, staring at the neglected temple, my heart swelled quite happily at the realization I had made it out of the frying pan and the fire, back into relative safety for a change.

The first person to cross the threshold was Abebi, who looked as serious as ever, talking to someone I didn't recognize, a gray-haired man who had a portly belly and a beard that hung to his collarbone. They both looked up as I whistled, the piercing sound easily drawing their attention in the quite cavern. Abebi's mouth opened wide, followed by a bright smile, and she actually jogged the distance between us, stopping just in front of me.

"Where the hell have _you_ been? Maribelle came back from your little walk screaming her head off about how you were attacked by spiders, and then you sealed yourself off from us. It took _hours _to move all that rock, by the way. Are you-" she said, eyeing my leg for the first time. "You're _hurt_!" She turned to the gray-haired man, who was smiling, quite ridiculously under the circumstances, and she yelled, "We need to call for a medic!"

The others were trickling over the hill now, and I could just make out the top of Maribelle's head, bobbing as she ran full speed toward me. I rolled my eyes, and the gray-haired man chuckled. "I think the medic is already on the way... besides, I'm sure he will be in capable hands."

My eyes widened. I didn't have much time to think on his comment, as Maribelle came barreling down the dirt path, sending small rocks flying, before coming to a halt in a cloud of dust. We closed our eyes reflexively, and she brushed the fog aside by waving her hands, apologizing immediately.

"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled, looking away from the man, who was still chuckling. "Harry!" she screeched, looking at my leg before echoing Abebi's words. "You're hurt!" Fortunately, she had no need to call for a medic, as she was one, so she set right to work on my painful, but still quite numb knee, waving her wand and apparently casting a diagnostic spell. A moment later she released her verdict. "It's not broken, but it is definitely sprained, and that bruising and swelling is going to take a while to heal. Your arm on the other hand, _is_ broken, right there," she poked, causing me to grimace, "at the ulna. Both of them will take time to fix, but not more than a day. You should be right as rain tomorrow."

"Very well," the bearded man said. "Maribelle, take Harry back to camp, and the rest of us will push on into the temple."

"Sir, with all due respect, I'd like to continue-"

"Harry," the old man said, shaking his head. "You've had a very trying time and you need to rest while you heal. You'll be no good to us if you're keeling over on the site..."

Says the man who probably just tried to kill me? What the-

I wanted to argue my point, but Maribelle swept in and started casting spells on my knee to keep it in place. Before I knew it, Abebi had lifted me off the ground with her magic. She graced me with a smile. "Sorry, Harry, but Delphi is right. At the very least you need a good night's rest before you go in the temple. You're filthy, and you look like you're about to fall over."

"Yeah..." I muttered, my mind running over the information I had just been given. Not only was this old man actually Delphi, he also knew exactly what I had said to Maribelle on the rock bridge before the spiders attacked. Even worse, he wanted me to know he knew! The significance was not lost on me, and yet, I allowed Maribelle to guide me back down the path, still slightly shocked by the revelations.

I suppose Maribelle could have told him the whole story, but would she have been able to remember word for word what I said to her? I racked my brain to remember our conversation, but after the surreal night I'd just had, I honestly couldn't recall much. Perhaps she had run to Delphi immediately, relaying the story in full, but I couldn't help feeling like this was another reason to suspect he was trying to kill me. Then again, he had basically banished me from the site despite the fact I wanted to keep moving, sending me to recover with the prettiest nurse I'd ever met.

As we slowly made our way back to camp, my right arm draped over her shoulders, I had to at least thank my lucky stars I had made it out of Bosoto alive, and with both eyes unharmed. I comforted myself with the thought that it could have been worse, but it brought me only a momentary respite. Fortunately, Maribelle had warm hands, and was doing delightful things to the hair on the back of my neck.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered, turning her watery eyes away from me for a second. "I just kept thinking it was all my fault... if I hadn't asked you to go on that walk... if I had been paying attention..."

"Maribelle," I said softly, causing her to look me in the eyes. I smiled, trying to cheer her up, though I had enough reason to be down in the doldrums my own self. "I'm fine, so there's no reason to worry!"

"But you're not fine, Harry! You almost died, and you can barely walk! Abebi nearly ripped my arm off when I came back without you, screaming that you were fighting off those spiders..."

Maybe it was because I was tired, but right now, hearing Maribelle's story was the least of my concerns. I wanted to snap something rude, but I decided she didn't deserve it, as all she had done was worry about me and get berated by everyone for losing me, which certainly wasn't her fault to begin with.

"Look, Maribelle... if it makes you feel better, you can make it up to me by taking care of me now." My head was spinning a bit, and my stomach felt rather queasy now that we were coming closer to the camp, but I pushed through it as best I could, knowing respite was right around the corner.

Maribelle nodded fervently, ceasing to play with my hair and moving her hand further downward to compensate for the sudden lag in my stride. "Hey," she laughed, her face coming rather close to mine. "I said you were in capable hands, and that's exactly what I meant! Don't worry, I'll have you jumping off waterfalls again before you know it." She added a mischeivous wink that reminded me a bit of Tonks.

The pressure that had been building in my head and my heart relented a bit, as she had virtually answered the question of Delphi's loyalty without even meaning to. Obviously she recalled at least most of what she had said and done leading up to my fall, and it was very likely she had told Delphi and Abebi everything.

Perhaps things weren't as bad as they had seemed. Then again, I thought, as Maribelle lost her footing and bumped my knee against the cave wall, perhaps things would become much, much worse.

* * *

-_end of Chapter Six-_


	7. Chapter Seven: Relax (Or Die Trying)

**Chapter Seven: Relax (Or Die Trying)**

Maribelle slowly ran her fingers down my leg underneath my torn and bloodied trousers, and I had to stifle a moan at her cool touch on my irritated and enflamed skin. I was pretty sure she wasn't doing this just to get a _rise _out of me, but it was difficult to ignore the sudden rush of blood to my groin, or the way my heart beat a little harder in my chest when she leaned back and flashed me a hesitant smile. It became blatantly obvious that she _knew _about my difficulty, and intended to further embarrass me since we were all alone at the camp.

"How does _that_ feel?" she asked, her long eyelashes fluttering, wearing a demure expression that was worth a thousand _really sexy-sounding_ words. One day very soon I knew I was going to have to stop having wanton thoughts about every girl I met. I had been so used to women avoiding me at every turn, or actively avoiding them myself, that a little _normal _attraction from the opposite sex felt like a breath of fresh air, the fling with Deni notwithstanding. Back at Hogwarts, most girls had been too afraid to approach me, and after my break-up with Ginny hit the _Daily Prophet_, I couldn't walk down the street without some comely broad throwing herself at me.

I'm sure many men, wizard and Muggle, would have no complaints with that particular development, but it did become a bit tedious when I had to start checking every meal for love potions. The last straw was when a known Death Eater supporter hit on me at a Ministry-sponsored post-war memorial.

I did find the expression on Draco's face priceless at the time, but anything related to Astoria Malfoy really _chaffed_ my ass... just like the way her first name sounded, actually. She wasn't bad looking, but she was every bit as insufferably opinionated and combative as her newlywed beau, and far more clever to boot. The _Daily Prophet _photo and corresponding article about the two of us congregating made the second page, and the Howler from Mrs. Weasley had been the subject of a series of jokes from Ron that _hopefully _will have been forgotten by the time I see him again (but probably won't be, knowing my best friend).

Apparently, I had been lost in thought too long, as Maribelle stopped rubbing my leg and was looking at me quizzically. I decided answering her honestly was better than saying something stupid, or sexist, or... _both_ I suppose.

"Not to disappoint you, Maribelle, but it bloody _hurts_ whether you massage it or not. It's almost like something is stuck in there, and when you..." I grimaced, continuing to talk through my teeth as she put a bit of pressure on my leg, "_press down_ you might as well be punching me in the knee."

"Well," she snapped, probably a bit irritated by my refusal to play her game of _doctor. _"I can try punching you, if you'd prefer?"

Dryly, I said, "I doubt that would help. Hitting me kind of defeats the purpose of healing me." I tried to smile, but it seemed my face was determined to grimace instead. "Is there something you can do about the pain, you know, _besides _making it worse?" I bit my lip, as she looked a little affronted. "No offense," I added, causing her to laugh.

"None taken," she said sarcastically, waving me off. "As for your question... the answer is yes," she drawled, patting me on the back softly and standing up from her seat on the edge of my cot. "I've got a few potions for you to take, but I've got to reduce the swelling and stop any infection from that gash first." She took a minute or two to walk over to her makeshift desk, a fat rock lying in the middle of the camp, and began ransacking a rather large oak cabinet sitting beside it. Eventually she produced a cream of some sort, which she hastened to tap with her wand, before quickly rejoining me on my cot.

"Do you want to smear this on your leg, or should I do it?"

My breath caught in my throat for a moment, but I played it off rather well. With only the slightest hitch in my voice I said, "Well, uh, you _are_ the medical professional here. Maybe it would be better if you did it."

"Right," she drawled again, this time rolling her eyes, though I could tell she struggled to hide her pleased smile. "Typical male answer; get the woman to do it." As she began to place the cream on my leg, causing me to recoil slightly at the warm sensation, she explained what it was she was doing. "_This_ is essentially a beefed up version of Essence of Murtlap. Have you ever heard of it?"

The yellow liquid I was familiar with had been replaced by a light green salve that I had never seen before. I glanced at my right hand, where _I must not tell lies _was barely visible. "I've used it a few times; it always worked really well, but it didn't... completely remove the scars."

She looked over at me sharply, but fortunately she didn't say anything for once.

"Well, this is a homemade salve I'm proud to say I helped develop back in the States. I mixed the Murtlap with a bit of doxy hair and added just a smidge of Antimony; the toxicity of the Antimony is balanced by the doxy hair, and it encourages the healing properties of the Murtlap tentacles. You should feel the skin on the top stretching, as well as a burning sensation underneath that is cleaning any infection you might have. A warming charm applied to the cream has the added bonus of making it a pleasant experience."

Maribelle certainly seemed to know what she was talking about as my pain was slowly starting to recede. I was breathing a little bit easier now, and for the first time in far too long I could relax. I closed my eyes and dropped my head onto my cot, drifting off as the soft sound of Maribelle prattling on and on about her medicinal herbs and science experiments continued. She was a cute girl, very attractive and obviously very smart, but sometimes she just talked _too much_.

Despite the quick-acting ointment, nothing had been applied to my broken arm or the rest of my external injuries, so I never quite fell into slumber. My thoughts drifted lazily, the faces of Deni and Maribelle swimming in my mind's eye, as well as the less welcome visage of Uruk, showing no emotion as he threw me to the ground...

Then Maribelle jerked my injured arm, causing my eyes to open wide as jarring pain shot from the broken bone and down to my fingers. "OUCH!" I screeched, sitting up despite Maribelle's hand on my chest. "What the fu-"

"Calm down, Harry... I told you it was going to hurt! I was just resetting the bone. Nothing to scream at me about!" She walked away from me shaking her head, probably going to gather some more materials to torture me back to full health with.

I grumbled an apology under my breath, which she most likely didn't even hear, but I honestly felt like raging against her a bit more; I wasn't some pansy who couldn't take a little bit a pain, but it bloody hurt when someone yanked on your broken arm, _especially _when you had no time to prepare for it. I decided to postpone any further attempts at rest until she was done healing me.

A few minutes later, she came back over to me and smeared roughly the same amount of ointment she had put on my leg onto my arm, and then wrapped a thick bandage around it. "Now use your other arm to hold this one in place, and I'll put it in a sling."

Surprised, and a touch amused, I scoffed. "Not to be rude, but isn't that… kind of a _Muggle_ thing?"

She gave me a look that quite plainly said not only was I being rude, I was also an ignorant asshole and I should apologize; it occurred to me too late that I had just disparaged a Muggleborn witch for using a Muggle procedure. Hermione would be proud, I'm sure.

"For all intents and purposes, Harry, even though I'm here as part of an all magical A-team and capable of magic myself, I'm still a Muggle in every way that matters. Your arm will heal regardless, as that's what the salve is supposed to do, but it will take longer if you don't keep your arm still. A sling works just as good as anything magical in that regard."

I hung my head, having accidentally pushed Maribelle's buttons, though thankfully she wasn't showing any outward signs of anger. Feeling kind of guilty about the way I had been acting, I waited until she had finished with the sling and then asked for her forgiveness.

"Sorry... y'know, about my big fat mouth. It's just... I grew up with Muggles, so I'm not prejudiced or anything, but ever since I started at Hogwarts I've been conditioned to assume that magic has an easier solution than Muggle technology. I know it sounds callous to say we're better than them..."

"But you still feel like we are?" I grimaced again, well-aware I was starting to sound like a typical Pureblood. I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything else, she smiled. "I appreciate your apology, Harry, but it's not necessary. Sometimes I even feel like our power gives us the upper hand, but I think it's important we ignore our differences in favor of promoting our similarities. Even in the States, a lot of wizards and witches have a God-complex when it comes to Muggles." She paused for effect. "Nevermind that Muggles have built skyscrapers over a thousand feet tall, or that they've sent hundreds of expeditions into space, or that they've developed a single bomb that could set our entire society back a thousand years."

I winced, thinking of the apocalyptic repercussions we could all face if such a thing were to happen. No wonder the Statute of Secrecy was so zealously defended.

"I just want you to know that I don't personally feel superior to Muggles. In fact, I stay in a Muggle apartment complex in Manchester, and I spend more time watching television and cooking with pots and pans than I do using magic." This wasn't entirely true, as I had spent an inordinate amount of time learning new magic, but I didn't feel it was prudent to say that at the moment.

She smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. I wondered if I had said something else wrong, but she turned back to her duties, moving the conversation in a different direction. "So, you said you grew up with Muggles, huh? What was that like for you?" Her tone was a touch brisk, but I couldn't tell if it was because she was busy, or because she was angry with me.

She was crossing over into what was usually 'I'd rather not talk about this' territory, but after our awkward conversation I had to say _something_. "Well, my Aunt and Uncle weren't the best foster family, but quite by accident they did enough for me to end up better off than my cousin. They treated me like their personal slave while spoiling him rotten, but instead of it making me angry and rebellious, once I found out I had magic and _that's_ why they were mistreating me, it just made me pity them for being so obtuse. The funny thing is that my cousin ended up being the angry and rebellious one."

"That _sucks_, even though you turned out okay. It sounds like you had a hard life." She shook her head, looking sympathetic now instead of angry. "If you don't mind me asking... where is your cousin now?"

"He was living with my Aunt and Uncle, but the last time I dropped in to visit, he had just been arrested for robbing an old lady at knife point, so it's very likely he's in prison right now."

"Damn. It kind of serves them right, doesn't it?"

I smiled wryly. "Yeah, I guess it kind of does." I thought for a moment about the Dursley family and their many, many faults, but I couldn't summon the emotion to care whether they were doing well or not. Steering the conversation away from my up-bringing, I asked Maribelle what her family was like, as she had already mentioned them to me before and it didn't seem like a problematic topic for her to discuss.

"My mom and dad are doing great. Mom went ahead and retired early so she could spend more time with the grandchildren."

"Oh," I said, surprised. "You didn't tell me you had any brothers or sisters."

She looked up sharply. "I don't."

It took a moment for my brain to put two and two together, but when it did, I mumbled, "_Oh_, that's... _nice_." A rather lude Seamus Finnegan comment about MILF's kept running through my head, so despite my best efforts to keep smiling as if nothing had happened, I was pretty sure I was frowning heavily.

"You don't have to lie, Harry; I can see the look on your face!" She chuckled, lightening the mood a bit, and I shook off some of the ice that had settled in my chest. Maribelle thankfully ignored my behavior, continuing to tell me about her home life. "I've got a six year old boy and a four year old girl."

If she was twenty-six like she had said the day before, that would mean she was twenty when she had her first child, and two years later she had a girl. I couldn't help wondering about her husband, who _definitely _wouldn't approve of our flirtatious relationship. "What about your husband?

Maribelle's breath caught in her throat. She exhaled noisily, pretending to check something on her clipboard. Softly, she muttered, "He left me three years ago."

Feeling dreadful, I covered my face with my hands. "Okay. It's official. I am _God-awful_ at small talk." She laughed a little bit, which was a good sign. "I'm really sorry, Maribelle... what a tremendous _asshole_." I was talking about myself, but she assumed I was referring to her ex-husband.

She turned her head away from me and I couldn't see her face. "No, not really. I still miss him sometimes, but..." she paused uncomfortably, sighing and shaking her head. "We fell out of love _long _before he passed away."

I made a passable attempt at covering up my surprise by adjusting the sling on my broken arm. Though she looked at me strangely, as if knowing there was nothing wrong with my sling because she had just fixed it, she ignored my discomfort and kept talking. "We had both agreed to stay together for the kids' sakes, but both of our jobs took us all over the place, so it was really a matter of time before one of us left... and then," she sniffled, and I was reminded of Abebi, who had nearly cried the day before when talking about her daughter, "one day a man in blue robes came to my door, and he told me David had been killed in a firefight. I took it okay, I guess, but my kids had a terrible time, especially my boy, Aaron. He was just starting to idolize his dad when he found out he'd never even see him again..."

I was silent for a moment, contemplating her words. I could remember very well what it was like to grow up without parents, and while Maribelle was still alive, it sounded like she spent a lot of time on the road. Fortunately for them, it also sounded like their grandmother cared about them a great deal, so at least they weren't being raised by Vernon Dursley.

"That's horrible." I felt like my comment wasn't enough, though I didn't know what else to say at the moment. I looked at Maribelle to see that she was more than a little teary-eyed, though she showed tremendous resolve in holding back her emotions. I could only imagine how her life must have changed following her husbands' death, but I could sense it had made her stronger, as she had come through it all to be the lovely, helpful woman she was today.

We were silent for a while before she said, "Let's not talk about our lives right now, okay? Both of us have terrible tales to tell, Harry, and I don't want to run you off by talking about my troubles. Besides," she sniffed, playfully twirling her short brown hair around one finger, "I want to know what a real magical school is like."

Our conversation went a lot more smoothly from there, as I riddled her with anecdotes about Hogwarts and the many adventures my friends and I had. She laughed when I told her about my first train ride from Platform 9 and 3/4, ending in the uproarious tale of Ron and I saving Hermione from the troll. Maribelle especially enjoyed my recount of the Department of Mysteries, but looked more than a little freaked out when I spoke of the Battle of Hogwarts and my death at Voldemort's hands. Of course, she smiled when I explained how I defeated the slimy bastard.

"I can't believe you beat him with _Expelliarmus_! The darkest wizard in all the world defeated by a spell I could do!" Her self-deprecating comments about her magic made me want to defend her, but after all, she had never been to school to learn any of it and was far less advanced than I was. "If that's not ironic..."

Of course, I didn't tell Maribelle everything, as we didn't have that much time, and some things were better left unsaid anyway; I felt she and I would both be better off if she had no knowledge of the Deathly Hallows, the story of Snape's ultimate redemption, or anything that would implicate me in any law-breaking.

After all, everyone has secrets to hide; _especially_ the good guys.

Eventually, Maribelle told me to get some rest and walked away from me, though she didn't go further than her own cot. I closed my eyes and made myself comfortable, but I might as well have been sleeping on the ground for all the relief my cot offered. Fortunately, I got a few hours of sleep before any of the others returned, some of them stamping their dirty boots as they crossed the threshold and left the tunnels for our cozy little rock shelter.

I could hear a few of them muttering angrily under their breaths, though from a distance I couldn't make out what they were saying. I decided I could pick up quite a bit of information if I kept my eyes shut and pretended to be sleeping, so I did just that, turning away from the group of men that were approaching.

"That was one _hell_ of a day," one man began, his voice sounding vaguely Eastern European, though I couldn't immediately place where I'd heard that particular accent before. "I knew this was a waste of time when we got here..."

"Oh, quit your grumbling, Ivan," was the reply, followed by a couple of other grunts of agreement. "It's only the first day on the job; it's not like they expected us to map the whole place out overnight."

"_Fuck you_," Ivan mumbled, though I was pretty sure the other man hadn't heard him. Then, much louder, he said, "We spent six hours looking for an entrance, and you expect bubbly optimism? You can kiss my ass-"

"Now, now, Ivan," came a cultured voice I immediately recognized as Delphi. "Settle your attitude." The other man opened his mouth to add to Delphi's statement, but he was cut off as well. "You too, Dimas. We need cohesion here, or we'll never find what we're looking for."

"Yes, sir." That was Dimas, who, in my honest opinion, seemed to be a bit of a kiss ass, which was probably why Ivan was getting annoyed with him to begin with.

"Ivan?"

"Yes, _sir_," he growled, and I could hear his footsteps as he fled. After a few seconds, the other men started to talk amongst themselves, so I chose that moment to yawn and stretch my arms wide, letting the others know that I was awake.

"Harry, my boy! I trust Ms. Lewis took care of you?"

Delphi really had a way of addressing me that _pissed me off_. First, he calls me _son_, and now he calls me _boy_? I did my best to shrug it off, not willing to make a scene, and still a little groggy from my midday nap.

"Yes, sir," I nodded, as I really did feel a lot better than I had that morning. I stood up from the cot and walked over to the man, who was crossing the cavern and heading in Abebi's general direction. "Is the expedition going well?"

"Well, Harry, let me just say that I'm still enthusiastic, where others might not have as positive an outlook." He ran the fingers of his right hand through his gray beard, looking thoughtful. "Unfortunately, we have not made as much headway as I would have liked, but then, I never expected this expedition to be easy."

That was... surprisingly truthful, and not at all what I had been expecting from the typically evasive Delphi. Then again, I guess I could have surmised as much from the disappointed looks on most people's faces. "On the bright side," Delphi said, "at least we'll have you back tomorrow, and maybe your experience with horcruxes can help you find something we didn't."

If he was pinning all his hopes on me, I doubted his sanity, as I honestly didn't think I'd see anything the others had missed, but I appreciated his faith in me all the same. "I'll do my best," I said softly.

"I'm sure you will, Harry..." he said, before excusing himself.

I broke off from Delphi to join Abebi, who had just plopped down heavily on her cot, holding her head in her hands and moaning. Taking a page out of her book, I allowed her a few moments to make a fool of herself before I said anything.

"Rough day?" I said, causing her to jump slightly and turn her face to mine. When she saw it was me, she rolled her eyes, frowning.

"Not as rough as yours, apparently. How's the leg and arm?"

"I'm walking, but it still aches a bit. The arm doesn't hurt, but I'm not moving it, so who knows if it's fixed. Maribelle knows what she's doing though, so I'm sure it's fine."

Her upper lip twitched when I mentioned Maribelle, but she didn't say anything. I wondered if she didn't like the brunette for some reason.

"So," I said, sitting down beside her, though I was careful not to get too close. "You avoided my question. How did it go?"

She sighed. "Harry, I can't even think of a word that will convey how terrible our first day was."

Feeling cheeky, I asked, "What about the word _terrible_?"

"Shut up," she said, pushing my arm away lightly. "We might as well have been tourists, Harry. We just stood there looking at the entrance and each other, wondering what we were supposed to do. Delphi didn't know, so it was basically half a day of standing around, wishing we were somewhere else."

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded. "So bad, I almost wished my leg and arm were broken so I didn't have to stand around anymore. For the most part, everyone is in a shitty mood, and _nobody_ wants to go back to the temple tomorrow. If we weren't getting paid out the yang for this job," she said, shaking her head, "I'd probably be escorting most of the team back out of the tunnels already. I can't say I blame them either."

I tried to be more supportive, but it was a lot more fun to pick on Abebi. "Oh, don't be such a big baby, Bebi. Besides, you didn't have me there to save the day," I said, puffing out my chest.

This time she punched me in the arm, causing me to gasp, as it was my broken one. "What the hell? _That_ hurt!"

"Who is the 'big baby' now?"

We continued to go back and forth, half-heartedly complaining to each other about our aching bodies and the boring day we had seperately shared. Other people joined us as the night wore down and dinner approached. Some of them entered the conversation, but for the most part we spoke only to ourselves. At length, I made eye contact with Maribelle, who was all the way across the camp, and with my free arm I waved her over gleefully.

I was unsurprised to see another frown appear on Abebi's face. It was obvious she didn't like the girl, and though it seemed a bit of a stretch, I was more and more certain she didn't like Maribelle because of her relationship with me. Why a woman with a kid and a boyfriend would show concern was beyond me, but I did my best to ignore it as Maribelle walked over.

"How is your arm feeling?"

I wriggled my forearm back in forth in the sling and felt only the lightest twinge in the area that was broken. "It feels a lot better, but I don't think it is quite there yet."

She nodded. "It should only be a few more hours; then we'll take the sling off. Just try to keep it still for a while longer." I returned her nod, and the conversation grew stale for a few moments.

"What about your leg?"

"Right as rain, like you said. It's a little sore where the bruises and scratches are, but the swelling has gone way down and I can walk without too much discomfort. Thanks, by the way."

"No problem. I'm glad to see the salve made a difference." Again her words were met with silence, and the lull in our conversation was strangely suffocating. I couldn't help wondering if I was missing something, as there should be no reason Abebi didn't like Maribelle and vice-versa.

"Hello, Ms. Radwan," she said succinctly, finally turning toward the dark skinned woman. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine," she said shortly, causing me to look at her questioningly. Maribelle seemed used to the way Abebi eyed her with distaste, as she showed no emotion when the older woman turned away and ignored her in favor of idly searching through one of her bags.

Puzzled, I looked for Maribelle's reaction, but she was all business. "Well, Harry, come find me after dinner and I'll check your arm. See you later."

She walked off, her hips lightly swaying, and I couldn't help staring for a moment as I was lost in thought. "Take a _fucking_ picture," Abebi said. "It'll last longer."

Growing annoyed by her jealous behavior, I turned to say something, but a noise resounded through the camp, sounding rather like the dinner bell. "Get it while it's hot!" someone yelled, and I turned to find a table was set in the middle of the cave with a lot of food. There was a mad rush from most of the gathered individuals, as we were fed in the morning and evening only, and many of us were unused to such stringent mealtimes. I stood and offered my hand to Abebi, who rejected it with a firm shake of the head.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my concern getting the best of me. "I'm not allowed to look at other women now?" My sarcasm wasn't lost on Abebi, who sighed and stood up. She stalked off toward the table, saying nothing as she went. I watched her for a few moments, still confused, before eventually following in her wake. I took a plate when it was offered to me, but I suddenly wasn't that hungry. The feeling that something was amiss swirled in my stomach, and in that moment I made a promise to myself that I'd get to the bottom of it.

After all, what's one more mystery to solve?

* * *

The sustenance provided wasn't quite on par with grandiose Hogwarts meals, or the exquisite buffet at the Callirhoe, but it was still a damn sight better than my own home-cooked cuisine. Some of my teammates didn't seem pleased by a few of our choices, but I had been raised on dry toast and lukewarm water, so I certainly wasn't going to complain about steak that was a touch too tough, and baked potatoes with no chives.

Besides, I don't even like chives.

I was still a little annoyed that both of my friends were avoiding me, though I knew they had their own reasons for staying away from each other. I still couldn't imagine what would make Abebi angry with a healer of all people and I doubted Maribelle would openly antagonize anyone. Then again, she was a bit high-strung, and occasionally a total airhead, though she had seemed a well-meaning clutz, and certainly not one of the bad guys. Moreover, she had gone out of her way to give me personal care, and had done a pretty handy job at it, all things considered.

I stood in a long line, maybe seven people from the front, as the oldest of the healers slowly made herself a plate. I wondered if I wasn't just making a big deal out of something as insignificant as two women disliking each other. Maybe Abebi mistrusted Maribelle because she _had _done so much for me, and perhaps she saw the incident at the waterfall as proof Maribelle couldn't _be _trusted. If that was true, then I really should be concerned, but it wasn't like Maribelle pushed me over the edge of the waterfall. It wasn't her fault hundreds of spiders had appeared, dead set on consuming the two of us.

My melancholy mood was starting to get old; I had gone through too much in the last few days to deal with females right now. After spending a good twenty minutes eating by myself, staring angrily at the rock above and below us, I decided that maybe it was just that time of the month for both of them and I'd be better off letting them work it out. In the meantime, I figured I'd try to get to know some of the others.

I approached a friendly-looking man, maybe a few years older than me with bushy eyebrows and a thin, angular face surrounded by curly straw-colored hair. He reminded me of a much younger Remus Lupin, a thought that appealed to me greatly as I greeted the man.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit down?"

He shook his head, muttering a return greeting that I couldn't make out under the sound of everyone's conversations and the relentless scratching of silverware and plates from the people that were still eating. Without a chair to sit on, I produced my wand and conjured the same squishy chintz armchair that Dumbledore had always used.

"What's with the living room furniture?" asked another man, who was quite a bit older than me; after the studying the man a moment, he was forever logged in my memory as 'the Monk', as his fat round belly and bowl-cut hairstyle made him look like he was straight out of a monastery. His accent and mannerisms conflicted with his features however, as he cussed quite frequently and, judging by the predominantly alcoholic brew in his left hand, Monk enjoyed a good time when he could have one. "You look like one of those frilly Brits, ya know? The _interior decoratoring_ type, if you catch my drift."

I rolled my eyes, giving the man a grin. "It's a trick I picked up from an old friend... kind of personal reminder of his life now that he's gone. I've never had the heart to bother conjuring anything different." There was a momentary pause, as if the man didn't know what to say after that. "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."

I glanced around to see the younger man with the curly hair noticeably paying attention to me now, but Monk just nodded his head and said his name in return. "Cheng," he said, his last name noticeably absent. "Pleased to meet you, Harry."

The other man spoke up, his eyes focusing on my scar. "Frank McCoy, nice to meet 'ya. Let me ask you a question, if you don't mind?" At my behest, he continued. "What's it like? I mean, you're probably one of the most famous people in the world, and you absolutely hate the fame from what I've heard. _Why_? I'd probably die if some bird wet herself just because she had a chance to talk to me!"

Cheng laughed, a hacking cough following shortly after. "What do you mean he's one of the most famous... I've never heard of _this git_," he said, pointing his spoon at me. "What makes him so special?"

I turned my head, not willing to let the older man see me smile at his denounciation of me. At least I could guarantee he didn't have it out for me just based on my performance against Voldemort. Frank, on the other hand, had definitely formulated an opinion about me; whether it was a good one or not had yet to be determined.

"He killed that damned dark lord that was rounding up followers in England. As a baby and as an adult if the stories are true - which everyone says they are. You're talking to a living legend of the British isles, Cheng!"

"Legend, my _ass_," he murmured, though he looked at me a little more closely. "Potter, huh? That's right, I do remember now; your parents are the ones that offed that Voldemort character years ago. How old are ya now?"

"Twenty-one, sir," I said, suddenly insistent on showing the man respect, as he was quite a bit older than me. "I guess he _died_, but he never really _moved on_. When he came back to life a few years ago, we finally put him to rest. It wasn't just me fighting Voldemort; in fact, I doubt there are many people that could have fought him alone and lived, but... uh, I tricked him into killing himself. His curse rebounded off of mine and... well, the rest is history."

I resisted the urge to fidget under their intense looks. Eventually, Cheng smiled at me and offered me his hand. "Well, anyone who takes care of bad guys is a friend of mine. Want a drink?"

"What about a smoke?"

Frank offered me a tightly-rolled white cigarette while Cheng had a bottle to the left of him simply marked 'Vodka'. I balked at the inherent _magical_ properties of both.

"Nah, I don't think I should." I shrugged. "Not much of a smoker or drinker, I'm afraid."

They just laughed, clinking their glasses together once, Cheng downing his while Frank ignored it in favor of pushing his joint towards me again. "You only live once, Harry," Frank said, encouraging me to try the cannabis.

I chuckled, sorely tempted to give in as both guys seemed likeable enough and it was going to be a _long, _cold night without the alcohol to keep me warm. While I wouldn't call myself a drinker, I occasionally tossed one back with Ron, and though I had never tried smoking, I doubted anyone was going to try and stop me this far from home. I imagined Hermione finding out I smoked pot and had to stifle a laugh at the look on her face. That alone was almost worth the abuse on my lungs.

Still I resisted, as they continued to jeer me. "What would my mother say if she knew her son was peer pressured into deviant behavior?" I was only partly joking when I said it.

Cheng laughed, as did Frank. "What would your father say if he knew his son was a pussy?" Cheng laughed even harder, joined by Frank and I a few moments later.

"I'm not _scared_," I said, after we had all calmed down. "I just don't want to." I made a petulant face that was met with more laughter from Cheng, while Frank seemed a bit more subdued.

"More for us then. Cheers, Cheng!"

A second clink of their glasses occurred before they both downed the rest of their beverages, each of them clamoring to get to the bottle before the other. "It's mine!" Cheng yelped, as Frank snatched the vodka up first. "I should get the first glass!"

"You snooze you lose, gramps!"

"Give it to me," he grinned, yellow teeth shining, "or I'll tell Delphi you spent the whole afternoon smokin' reefer outside the temple!"

Frank rolled his eyes and poured the contents of the bottle into Cheng's waiting glass, making sure it was less than the amount he gave himself. "There, you..." he said, pausing to let out a tremendous belch that wafted in mine and Cheng's general direction. "Go."

"Gah," I said, plugging my nose by pinching two fingers over my nostrils. "That was _rancid_. What did you put in that stuff... lighter fluid?"

"Rubbing alcohol," Frank joked. "C'mon, you nancy boy! This'll put some hair on your chest."

My two companions continued to tease me until I relented, and though I put up a good fight, I was bound to give in eventually; after Frank made a comment about me being hard enough to kill the world's worst wizard but too weak to try its hardest beverages, I grabbed the bottle out of his hands and walked off in search of my own glass. Determined to one up the guys, I made sure I had a bigger glass than they did, and filled it all the way to the brim, laughing slightly as I noticed the bottle refill itself immediately. No wonder the guys were getting sloshed!

Joining them back by their cots, they laughed uproariously when I came back. "Oy," Frank yelled, leaping to his feet and pointing at me. "Potter's about to get pissed!" His English accent was awful, as he was undeniably American, but he drew the notice of the others, who had finished eating for the most part and were looking for some amusement. Cat calls of "Potter's getting pissed" reverberated around the camp, and my embarrassment was unavoidable, as every eye was caught on me as I held the bottle of vodka.

It wasn't long before I was surrounded, and Frank and Cheng led the group, cheering my first shot on. "Harry just turned twenty-one, so here's to a lifetime of sobriety, gone to shit!"

I laughed, drowning my fears by taking a very long drink of my glass. "Hold it in there, lad!" came the voice of a woman, sounding vaguely Scottish. "No dribbling on your robes!"

It tasted a little like fire whiskey, but instead of smoke rising out of my ears, it felt like it was swirling in my belly. I shivered visibly and the others laughed, some of them already grabbing for the bottle in my hands. I let it go easily, not at all intent on drinking more than a glass of the vile substance, especially when I had nothing to chase the horrid taste with.

Abebi chose that moment to break up our impromptu party, sitting beside me and passing me a glass of orange juice. "Oh my god, thank you..." I rushed to say, before cutting myself off under a large gulp of the liquid, causing her to snort humorlessly.

"You're welcome. I thought you could use something for the taste."

After swallowing a bit of the juice, I sighed, my stomach still warbling feebly under the strain from the alcohol. "You thought right." Though I was extremely thankful for the juice, I was still a bit peeved that Abebi had ignored me for the last half hour. "Wait," I said, leaning back and admiring Abebi through partly-intoxicated eyes, "I'm mad about you. I mean, _at_ you."

"Why on Earth would you be mad at _me_?" she growled.

"'Cause," was my short reply, taking my glass full of vodka and pouring part of it into the juice, before taking a swig. I grimaced, but it was better than the vodka by itself. "You left me."

"I left you, because I was getting irritated with you," she said, as if this had been made plain to begin with. "All you've done since you got here is flirt with that Healer, get drunk, and make a fucking fool of yourself."

"That's not true!" I said, adamantly defending myself. "I fought a bunch of spiders, and I fell off a waterfall. Oh, and I met the king of the goblins too... and I made friends with you!" I smiled brilliantly, but it fell as Abebi continued scowling at me. "Plus, I just started drinking a minute ago, so it doesn't count yet." It was growing ever more difficult to talk, but the liquid in my glass seemed to be getting tastier with each swallow.

Apparently, Abebi didn't appreciate my attempts at humor. "I thought better of you, Potter. You seemed level-headed and straight-forward when I first met you, but I guess you had me fooled just like everyone else." She sneered. "You're exactly like the papers say - a self-absorbed attention-seeking playboy!"

She was probably right, but wasn't she being at least a _little _harsh on me? "I think you're being dramatic, Bebi." Apparently, she didn't think so.

"You know what," she snapped. "Don't call me that anymore. Didn't I tell you only _friends of mine_ call me Bebi? I don't think you're cut out to be my friend, Potter. Everyone I'm friends with at least has the base intelligence to know the difference between a girl that wants to _shag_, and a slut who is using him!"

Completely taken aback by Abebi's anger, it took me a few moments to realize what she had actually said. "I'm not sure what you're accusing me of, or why you think I'm not your friend, but you've got no right to treat me like shit just because someone else is showing interest in me!"

"Someone else?! As if you think I'm _also _interested?" She laughed, and no longer was it friendly; in fact, she sounded like she was laughing at my expense, and enjoying it. "I'll be honest with you, Harry... you're a _fucking laugh_! Ha, ha, ha!" I opened my mouth to say something, but she beat me to the punch, exclaiming, "I bet you think every girl - excuse me, every _person_ - that talks to you _wants you _because you're bloody Harry Potter... but did you ever stop and think for one moment that some of them are _using _you?"

It was obvious by the look on my face that I hadn't, at least not recently, and despite the anger bubbling up in my throat I couldn't deny that she was right. I had just been telling myself I'd have to stop falling for every girl I met, and now, here was a girl lambasting me for the same thing. Still, I had to defend myself, because Abebi was being rapidly tearing me a new one, and I didn't deserve any of it.

"Did you ever stop and think for one moment I know that? Excuse _me, _but I've been Harry Potter _all my life_ whereas you've known me _almost_ two days!"

She shook her head and turned away from me, as some of the others started to pay attention to our conversation. "Maribelle is not what you think she is, Harry."

"That's funny, because I think she might be my_ friend_, unlike someone else I can think of, who swears up and down I'm not hers!"

Apparently, that was exactly the thing to say to Abebi to piss her off, even though she had just finished saying I wasn't her friend to start with. Abebi turned back to me, her hair flying, and raised a hand to me as if to strike me. At the last second she pulled back, and I laughed in her face. "Were you going to hit me?" I asked, more than a little incredulous at her actions. "I'm not your child, to be scolded or spanked just because I didn't do what you said!"

She snarled, and before I could say a word, she had pulled her wand and blasted me with a spell I didn't recognize; I flipped head over heels through the air, like some out of control gymnast, until I landed heavily against the ground at Frank's feet. He spit his alcohol out accidentally, having been caught off-guard as he was cracking up at my turn of fortune, and it splashed on my forehead right above my scar.

Abebi stepped over to me, still looking angrier than I had ever seen her, and came to a stop right in front of me, eyeing me as if to say 'I _dare_ you to move'. Hurting all over, especially in my knee, where I had once again taken the brunt of the fall, I slowly pulled myself to my feet, using Frank's proferred arm. "Thanks," I muttered, wiping his spit off of my brow.

"Don't mention it," he slurred, smiling drunkenly.

"What the _hell _is your problem?" I asked Abebi, not really expecting an answer. "A little hanky-panky with the healer and you go ape-shit on me? You've got no right to attack me." The alcohol was raging against my senses, but I couldn't help but feel sharp disappointment and bewilderment at my good friend's actions. Why was she acting this way?

Abebi stood at her full height, her back straight and her wand pointed at me, ready to cast again if she deemed it necessary. Unfortunately, it was all I could do stand up now that my leg was injured again, and judging by the look on Abebi's face, she wasn't about to cast a healing spell. "And who is going to stop me?" she said, her voice reverberating in the cave.

"I am." Delphi had appeared as if out of thin air, and was facing Abebi with a stern look. His voice was firm as he said, "I don't care why you two were fighting, but it ends _now._" He focused on Abebi. "Apologize, and move on..."

She growled at him. "I'll move on, but I am not apologizing to him." She gave me a look I tried to decipher, and though I detected a bit of remorse for her actions, it was obvious she wasn't going to be saying sorry anytime soon.

"Fair enough," Delphi said, looking bored by the whole argument. "For everyone else - if I catch you fighting, you will be reprimanded." My ears were ringing from the fall and the alcohol, but I could hear someone ask Delphi what he meant, to which he replied, "I'll take it out of your pay, or personally send your ass home with nothing but a check for travel expenses. Any other questions?"

He didn't wait around to see if there would be any, and neither did Abebi, who turned tail and went over to her cot to prepare for the evening. I briefly considered trying to patch things up between us, but my knee was throbbing rather painfully and I decided it would be best to visit Maribelle first for some pain reliever.

However, before I could move, Frank and Cheng surrounded me. Cheng smiled and patted me on the back. "Oh, she'll come around. You'll see."

"I'm not so sure, Monk," I said off-handedly, drawing a laugh from Frank.

"Monk? He does look like a-"

Cheng cut him off by whacking him on the head, and though it must have hurt, Frank just dissolved into laughter. "Sorry," I said, still distracted by what had just happened between me and Abebi. "My mind is all over the place right now... I think I need a good lie down."

"Not so fast, kid," Cheng said, wrapping one long arm around my shoulders and maneuvering me back to where we had been sitting. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you need this more than any young man I've ever met."

"Huh?" I said, broken from my thoughts. "What do you mean?"

Then I saw Frank, who was looking down, intently watching his joint as he lit it. "No," I stammered, half-heartedly trying to push the older man away from me, though he merely pushed me into a sitting position and joined me. Frank took one long drag on the cigarette before passing it to Cheng, who did the same. Finally, Cheng placed the joint in my hands before offering some words of wisdom.

"Inhale it, hold it in, and push the breath out when you're done. Don't think about what you're about to do, just do it."

Blushing bright pink and still a little intoxicated, I gave up trying to resist and put the rolled paper to my lips, puffing a little before coughing so hard I thought my lungs would rocket out of my mouth.

"What the hell?" I said in between hacking coughs, as my two new friends laughed their asses off. "It isn't funny!"

And yet, I couldn't help laughing uproariously along with them, and skipping the other two by taking a second, even longer drag. Suddenly, the weight placed on my chest from issues with Abebi and Maribelle no longer mattered, and my aches and pains started to fade away, as did most rational thought. It was bliss, and while my lungs burned, I felt as good as I had ever felt in my entire life.

Cheng eventually started singing, joined a moment later by Frank and some other man named Charles, and I sat there smiling and listening. Maribelle came to check on me at some point, and spent quite some time lecturing me for smoking and drinking, while simultaneously laughing at the state I was in. I eventually cajoled her into taking a few swigs herself, and the night digressed into poorly-timed sex jokes and the strangest collection of life stories I had ever heard.

When we finally went to bed, I wasn't completely sure how to navigate the cots and needed guidance from Maribelle. The only problem was, I didn't end up in my cot at all, and when I woke up the next morning Maribelle was gone and I was lying on the ground in front of Uruk, who didn't look at all pleased to see me

* * *

-_end of Chapter Seven_


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